"You gave him lots of practice," Lady Randolph observed drily.
"He wanted me so badly that he offered to give up his hounds and settle down wherever I pleased."
"And Jim and Archibald."
"My oldest friends."
"Ah, well," sighed Lady Randolph, "you are a lucky girl, Betty. Four good fellows want you."
"Archie wouldn't tell me why Mark went to town," said Betty absently. "What a voice he has! When he sings I feel like a Madonna. And his face——! A man has no business to be so good-looking. I am shameless enough to confess to you, only to you, that his good looks appeal to me enormously. It annoys me. I find myself staring at him as if he were a sort of royalty. And when other girls do it, I think them idiots. Well, for that matter I have never disguised from myself, or you, that I am a bit of an idiot."
"You are very human."
"I am not all you think me," cried the girl. "And yet you read me better than anyone else, but there are pages and pages turned down. I peep at them sometimes, and am quite scared. Mark shall tear them out and tear them up. Dear me! I am making myself ridiculous: chattering on and on about myself."
"One is never ridiculous when one is young," said Lady Randolph solemnly, "and I hope, my dear, you will let me read the turned-down pages before they are torn up. I used to say to myself that I should like to begin life again, to have one more chance. And, listening to you, I feel that I am beginning again. It is exciting. Only I hope that sometimes you will listen to me, and try to profit by my experience of a subject on which you, Betty, are so amazingly ignorant."
"That subject's name is Legion."