Something in her cousin’s tone, and the look with which he accompanied the question, brought out an impatient frown on Victoria’s face. She walked over to the window, and stood tapping her foot against the floor. “Don’t be ridiculous, Gerald! You know as well as I do that it is not the slightest use for this sort of thing to go on.” She kept her back turned on him while she spoke. There was a touch of softness in his voice as he answered: “It has gone on a long time, Vick, hasn’t it?” “A great deal too long,” was the reply, spoken with decision. “You know it is perfectly hopeless. You can’t afford me; I have told you so over and over again. Why on earth don’t you go and invest yourself in a pork-butcher’s daughter from Chicago, like everybody else?” She turned on him with some fierceness as she put the question. The captain looked up at her reproachfully as he exclaimed: “What a hateful girl you are to talk like that! You know perfectly well that you love me.” “Don’t be vulgar, Gerald!” was the sharp rebuke. “What has that to do with the question? You know I am for sale, just like the Zulu women. I don’t know exactly how many cows I am worth, but I know I am one of the most expensive girls in London.” Captain Mauleverer pulled his mustache, gazing at her with ill-concealed admiration. “Well, anyway, that is no reason why I shouldn’t look in at the shop-window,” he retorted, cheerfully. It was at this moment that the machine despatched by the marchioness entered the room to summon Victoria to her mother’s presence. “Is there any one with the marchioness?” she inquired. The machine believed that Mr. Despencer was with her ladyship. “Very good; I’ll come.” As soon as the machine had withdrawn to its subterranean abode, Captain Mauleverer asked, in the tone of a man who really desires information: “Who on earth _is_ that man?” Victoria looked blandly surprised. “Mr. Despencer, do you mean? I haven’t the slightest idea.” It was the captain’s turn to look surprised. “Why, I thought he was constantly in the house.” Victoria lifted her shoulders with fine disgust. “Yes, but I don’t know him. He is not anybody, you know. I call him the Ladies’ Journal. He is not received; he circulates. My mother takes him in, but I don’t.” “Is he one of those writing chaps?” inquired the captain, with military contempt. “I dare say. He may be the Poet Laureate for aught I know. But you must really go away now, or there will be a row.” “And when may I come back?” “It would be much better if you didn’t come back at all.” Captain Mauleverer shook his head as he rose reluctantly. “It’s no good talking like that, Vick. You have got to put up with me, so you may as well make the best of it.” “Gerald! what nonsense!” Victoria spoke as though she were exceedingly cross. “Go away directly; do you hear?” “You haven’t told me when I may see you again yet,” returned the obstinate Gerald. “I am not going to do anything of the kind.”