She knew-and laughed at the men. Presently she turned the conversation, which was getting a little too personal--on Leo Ulford’s side--to a subject very present in her mind that night. “Did you have a talk with Miss Schley the other day after I left?” she asked. “I ran away on purpose to give you a chance. Wasn’t it good-natured of me, when I was really longing to stay?” Leo Ulford stretched out his long legs slowly, his type’s way of purring. “I’d rather have gone on yarning with you.” “Then you did have a talk! She was at my house to-night, looking quite delicious. You know she’s conquered London?” “That sort’s up to every move on the board.” “What do you mean? What board?” She looked at him with innocent inquiry. “I wish men didn’t know so much,” she added; with a sort of soft vexation. “You have so many opportunities of acquiring knowledge and we so few--if we respect the _convenances_.” “Miss Schley wouldn’t respect ‘em.” He chuckled, and again drew up and then stretched out his legs, slowly and luxuriously. “How can you know?” “She’s not the sort that does. She’s the sort that’s always kicking over the traces and keeping it dark. I know ‘em.” “I think you’re rather unkind. Miss Schley’s mother arrives to-morrow.” Leo Ulford put up his hands to his baby moustache and shook with laughter. “That’s the only thing she wanted to set her up in business,” he ejaculated. “A marmar. I do love those Americans!” “But you speak as if Mrs. Schley were a stage property!” “I’ll bet she is. Wait till you see her. Why, it’s a regular profession in the States, being a marmar. I tell you what--” He leaned forward and fixed his blue eyes on Lady Holme, with an air of profound acuteness. “Are you going to see her?” “Mrs. Schley? I daresay.” “Well, you remember what I tell you. She’ll be as dry as a dog-biscuit, wear a cap and spectacles with gold rims, and say nothing but ‘Oh, my, yes indeed!’ to everything that’s said to her. Does she come from Susanville?” “How extraordinary! I believe she does.” Leo Ulford’s laugh was triumphant and prolonged. “That’s where they breed marmars!” he exclaimed, when he was able to speak. “Women are stunning.” “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand,” said Lady Holme, preserving a quiet air of pupilage. “But perhaps it’s better I shouldn’t. Anyhow, I am quite sure Miss Schley’s mother will be worthy of her daughter.” “You may bet your bottom dollar on that. She’ll be what they call ‘a sootable marmar.’ I must get my wife to shoot a card on her.” “I hope you’ll introduce me to Mrs. Ulford. I should like to know her.” “Yours isn’t the voice to talk down a trumpet,” said Leo Ulford, with a sudden air of surliness. “I should like to know her now I know you and your father.” At the mention of his father Leo Ulford’s discontented expression increased.