The talk was desultory, and in it the English girl took no part. Mrs. Rossiter asked me where I was going, what I was going for, and whether or not she couldn't take me to my destination in her car. I declined this offer, explained that my errands were trivial, and examined Lady Cissie through the corner of my eye. On her side Lady Cissie examined me quite frankly--not haughtily, but distantly and rather sympathetically. She had come all this distance to take a look at Hugh, and I was the girl he loved. I counted on the fact to give poor Jenny Wren her value, and I think it did. At any rate, when I had answered all Mrs. Rossiter's questions and was moving off to continue my way up-town, Lady Cissie's rich lips quivered in a sort of farewell smile. But Hugh showed little interest when I painted her portrait verbally. "Yes, that's the girl," he observed indifferently, "red-headed, long-legged, slashy-colored, laid on a bit too thick." "She's beautiful, Hugh." "Is she? Well, perhaps so. Wouldn't be my style; but every one to his taste." "It you saw her now--" "Oh, I've seen her often enough, just as she's seen me." "She hasn't seen you as you are to-day, and neither have you seen her. A few years makes a difference." He looked at me quizzically. "Look here, little Alix, what are you giving us? Do you think I'd turn you down now--for all the Lady Cissies in the British peerage? Do you, now?" "Not, perhaps, if you put it as turning me down--" "Well, as you turning me down, then?" "Our outlook is pretty dark, isn't it?" "Just wait." I ignored his pathetic boastfulness to continue my own sentence. "And this prospect is so brilliant. You'd have a handsome wife, a big income, a good position, an important family backing on both sides of the Atlantic--all of which would make you the man you ought to be. Now that I've seen her, and rather guess that she'd take you, I don't see how I can let you forfeit so much. I don't want to make you regret the day you ever saw me--" "Or regret yourself the day you ever saw me." If I took up this challenge it was more for his sake than my own. "Then suppose I accept that way of putting it?" He looked at me solemnly, for a second or two, after which he burst out laughing. That I might have hesitations as to connecting myself with the Brokenshires was more than he could grasp. He might have minutes of jealousy of Larry Strangways, but his doubt could go no further. It went no further, even after he had seen Lady Cecilia and they had renewed their early acquaintance. Ethel Rossiter had managed that, of course with her father's connivance. "Fine big girl," Hugh commended, "but too showy." "She's not showy," I contradicted. "A thing isn't necessarily showy because it has bright colors. Tropical birds are not showy, nor roses, nor rubies--"