“Yes. It gives her a look of being ecstatically happy and yet almost shy and appealing at the same time. Men can’t stand it of course.” “None of them are trying to stand it,” answered little Lady Kathryn somewhat in the tone of a retort. “I don’t believe she knows she does it,” Lady Lothwell said quite reflectively. “She does not know at all. That is the worst of it,” commented the Duchess. “Then you see that there _is_ a worst,” said her daughter. The Duchess glanced towards Kathryn, but fortunately the puzzled fret of the girl’s forehead was even at the moment melting into a smile as a young man of much attraction descended upon her with smiles of his own and carried her into the Tango or Fox Trot or Antelope Galop, whichsoever it chanced to be. “If she were really aware of it that would be ‘the worst’ for other people—for us probably. She could look out from under her lashes to sufficient purpose to call what she wanted and take and keep it. As she is not aware, it will make things less easy for herself—under the circumstances.” “The circumstance of being Mrs. Gareth-Lawless’ daughter is not an agreeable one,” said Lady Lothwell. “It might give some adventurous boys ideas when they had time to realize all it means. Do you know I am rather sorry for her myself. I shouldn’t be surprised if she were rather a dear little thing. She looks tender and cuddle-some. Perhaps she is like the heroine of a sentimental novel I read the other day. Her chief slave said of her ‘She walks into a man’s heart through his eyes and sits down there and makes a warm place which will never get cold again.‘ Rather nice, I thought.” The Duchess thought it rather nice also. “‘Never get cold again,‘” she repeated. “What a heavenly thing to happen to a pair of creatures—if—” she paused and regarded Robin, who at the other side of the room was trying to decide some parlous question of dances to which there was more than one claimant. She was sweetly puckering her brow over her card and round her were youthful male faces looking eager and even a trifle tense with repressed anxiety for the victory of the moment. “Oh!” Lady Lothwell laughed. “As Kitty says ‘There’s something about her’ and it’s not mere eyelashes. You have let loose a germ among us, mamma my sweet, and you can’t do anything with a germ when you have let it loose. To quote Kitty again, ‘Look at George!’”