generally suffer from an exaggerated sense of duty. She probably sticks
to the man because she wants to keep in with the County. I don't like the
woman, never did. Her airs and graces always rub me up wrong way. Why
couldn't Sir Giles have married in his own set? He probably wouldn't be
so fond of the whiskey bottle now if he had."

"I must say I like Lady Carfax," broke in the woman with decision.
"Whatever her origin, that queenliness of hers is not assumed. I believe
her to be intensely reserved, and, perhaps for that very reason, I have a
genuine admiration for her."

"My dear Mrs. Randal, you'd find points to admire in a wax candle,"
grunted the Major. "She always makes me think of one; pale and pure and
saintly--I can't stand the type. Let's go downstairs and find Violet."

"Oh, not saintly, I think," protested Mrs. Randal charitably. "Saintly
people are so uninteresting."

The Major laughed. He was already on his feet.

"Probably not--probably not. But a show of saintliness is more than
enough to frighten me away. A woman who can't understand a wink I
invariably strike forthwith off my visiting-list."

"How cruel of you!" laughed Mrs. Randal. They were already moving away
down the corridor. Her voice receded as they went. "But I can't
understand any man daring to wink at Lady Carfax; I can't, indeed."

"That's just what I complain about," grumbled Major Shirley. "Those
wax-candle sort of women never see a joke. What fools they are to leave