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repulsed her. The touch of her lips was like the falling of dewy
rosepetals. Her breath was as fragrant as newmown hay. Her
hair brushing my forehead had the odour of violets.
I sent her back to Miss Griggs. She ran out of the room laughing
merrily. She has received plenary absolution for her shameless
coquetry and her profane language. Worse than that she has
discovered how to obtain it in future. The witch has found her
witchcraft, and having once triumphantly exerted her powers, will
take the earliest opportunity of doing so again. I am fallen,
both in my own eyes and hers, from my high estate. Henceforward
she will regard me only with goodhumoured tolerance; I shall be
to her but a nonfelonious Timkins.
I was an idiot to have kissed her in return.
I have not seen her since. I lunched at the club, and paid a
formal call on Mrs. Ralph Ordeyne and my cousin Rosalie, in their
sunless house in Kensington.
I met a singular lack of welcome. Rosalie gave me a limper
hand than usual, and took an early opportunity of leaving me
teteatete with her mother, who conversed frigidly about the
warm weather. The very tea, if possible, was colder.
I met Judith by appointment in Kensington Gardens, and walked
with her homewards. I mentioned my chilly reception.
My dear man, she observedI dislike this apostrophe, which
Judith always uses by way of introduction to an unpleasant
remarkMy dear man, I have no doubt that you have as unsavoury
a reputation as any one in London. You are credited with an
establishment like Solomon'sminus the respectable counterbalance
of the wives, and your devout relatives are very properly shocked.
I said that it was monstrous. Judith retorted that I had brought
the calumny upon myself.
But what can I do? I asked.
Board her out with a suburban family, as you should have done
from the first. Even I, who am not straitlaced, consider it
highly improper for you to have her alone with you in the house.
My dear, said I, there is Antoinette.
Tushor something like itsaid Judith.
And Stenson. No one seeing Stenson could doubt the
irreproachable propriety of his master.
I really have no patience with you, said Judith.
It is hopeless to discuss Carlotta with her. I shall do it no
more.
We sat for a while under the trees, and conversed on rational
topics. She likes her employment with Willoughby. The morning
she spends among blue books and other waste matter at the British
Museum, and she devotes the evening to sorting her information.
Willoughby commends her highly.

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