"Evidently they are long past the stage of simplicity. Talking of napkins we had them embroidered—and exquisitely—Japanese work; at the De Larges'. Mine had a peacock in one corner; or I don't know if it was a peacock; it was a gay-feathered bird—"
"A peacock has a tail," suggested Mr. Dillwyn.
"Well, I don't know whether it had a tail, but it was most exquisite; in blue and red and gold; I never saw anything prettier. And at every plate were such exquisite gifts! really elegant, you know. Flowers are all very well; but when it comes to jewellery, I think it is a little beyond good taste. Everybody can't do it, you know; and it is rather embarrassing to nous autres."
"Simplicity has its advantages," observed Mr. Dillwyn.
"Nonsense, Philip! You are as artificial a man as any one I know."
"In what sense?" asked Mr. Dillwyn calmly. "You are bound to explain, for the sake of my character, that I do not wear false heels to my boots."
"Don't be ridiculous! You have no need to wear false heels. Art need not be false, need it?"
"True art never is," said Mr. Dillwyn, amid some laughter.
"Well, artifice, then?"
"Artifice, I am afraid, is of another family, and not allied to truth."