“What a delightful creature she is!” said Lady Fulkeward, settling her “Duchess of Gainsborough” hat on her powdered wig more becomingly and smiling up in the face of Ross Courtney, who happened to be standing close by. “So sweetly unconventional! Everybody here thinks her improper; she may be, but I like her. I’m not a bit of a prude.” Courtney smiled irreverently at this. Prudery and “old” Lady Fulkeward were indeed wide apart. Aloud he said: “I think whenever a woman is exceptionally beautiful she generally gets reported as ‘improper’ by her own sex; especially if she has a fascinating manner and dresses well.” “So true,” and Lady Fulkeward simpered. “Exactly what I find wherever I go! Poor dear Ziska! She has to pay the penalty for captivating all you men in the way she does. I’m sure _you_ have lost your heart to her quite as much as anybody else, haven’t you?” Courtney reddened. “I don’t think so,” he answered; “I admire her very much, but I haven’t lost my heart. …” “Naughty boy! Don’t prevaricate!” and Lady Fulkeward smiled in the bewitching pearly manner her admirably-made artificial teeth allowed her to do. “Every man in the hotel is in love with the Princess, and I’m sure I don’t blame them. If I belonged to your sex I should be in love with her too. As it is, I am in love with the new arrival, that glorious creature, Gervase. He is superb! He looks like an untamed savage. I adore handsome barbarians!” “He’s scarcely a barbarian, I think,” said Courtney, with some amusement; “he is the great French artist, the ‘lion’ of Paris just now,--only secondary to Sarah Bernhardt.” “Artists are always barbarians,” declared Lady Fulkeward enthusiastically. “They paint naughty people without any clothes on; they never have any idea of time; they never keep their appointments; and they are always falling in love with the wrong person and getting into trouble, which is so nice of them! That’s why I worship them all. They are so refreshingly unlike _our_ set!” Courtney raised his eyebrows inquiringly. “You know what I mean by our set,” went on the vivacious old “Gainsborough,” “the aristocrats whose conversation is limited to the weather and scandal, and who are so frightfully dull! Dull! My dear Ross, you know how dull they are!” “Well, upon my word, they are,” admitted Courtney. “You are right there. I certainly agree with you.” “I’m sure you do! They have no ideas. Now, artists have ideas,--they live on ideas and sentiment. Sentiment is such a beautiful thing--so charming! I believe that fierce-looking Gervase is a creature of sentiment--and how delightful that is! Of course, he’ll paint the Princess Ziska--he _must_ paint her,--no one else could do it so well. By the way, have you been asked to her great party next week?” “Yes.” “And are you going?” “Most assuredly.”