"What for?" That was her position. What for? What did he propose to offer in compensation? His protection? His devotion? His love? Then the sacrifice might be worth while. She bowed her head and smiled icily. She adored this young man. This was the last weapon she believed she could still wield against him. She was aware, perhaps, that the Inner Light was all nonsense. The fact that he said it was made it abundantly probable to her. But was it possible that the Inner Light might afford her a means of bringing their relationship to its desired conclusion? "A supremely intelligent woman like you," Lord Henry continued, "--really! And the Incandescent Gerald! And hymn number 27----!" "You may scoff," said the poor lady, feeling uncommonly hot, "but it all means something to me." "That is not true!" Lord Henry exclaimed. "You know it's not true. Oh, and Lady fflote, and Lady Muriel. And Adolf Albernspiel--God!" "Are you still determined to go to China?" Mrs. Delarayne demanded, her voice faltering a little. "As firmly as ever." "Well, don't let us quarrel then," she said. "The time is short enough." "Lord Henry," she began hesitatingly, as she pulled a marguerite to pieces over the fender. "I asked you to stay for a few minutes because I wanted to consult you on a very delicate matter." He sat down facing her, and began to tug at the mesh over his brow. He frowned and blinked rapidly, as was his wont when interested. He wondered whether this charming and unhappy creature realised how thoroughly he understood her. "You know Leonetta is home again," Mrs. Delarayne continued. Lord Henry nodded. "She is rather difficult to manage." He nodded again. "She is so full of life, so eager, so--well, can you imagine me at seventeen? Can you picture the mercurial creature I was, with every sense agog, with every nerve on the _qui vive_?--a dreadful little person in every way." Lord Henry chuckled, and gave his forelock one or two unusually rapid twists. "Leonetta is if anything worse than I was," Mrs. Delarayne continued, "for she is of this century. I belonged to the last one. D'you understand?" He bowed. "She is vitality incarnate,--wilful, womanly, vain, beautiful,--not more beautiful than Cleopatra, but more intrepid, more inquisitive, more determined to live than her elder sister." "Have you a photograph of her?" Lord Henry enquired. Mrs. Delarayne darted across the room, and returned with a large framed photograph which she handed to her visitor. "There's the latest. It was taken a month ago." Lord Henry examined it closely. "Yes," he said, with his customary gravity in dealing with interesting questions. "I see. I see now. Well?" "Can you see the girl she is? Daring,--oh, and can I say it?" Lord Henry looked up and blinked rapidly again. "A little--a little----" "A little inclined to temperamental precocity?" Lord Henry enquired. Mrs. Delarayne, very much relieved, nodded quickly.