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short-sightedness has been mentioned before."
    Elise shrugged. "She is very handsome, I think. Not a great beauty, but very fine. It is her air, perhaps."
    Something flickered in the green eyes. It was quickly hooded, but perhaps not quickly enough, for Elise contin-ued, "She is strong and proud. I think she has great will. It is not easy for a widow — for any woman alone — even in the Beau Monde. Or perhaps it is more difficult there, Still, one hears never a whisper of scandal about her. She presents her nieces, and always they many well."
    "You seem to know a great deal about this lady," said the marquess.
    "Ah, je sais tout . It amuses me. The shopgirls are always so willing to repeat what they fear. Everyone wonders about Madame, because she is a mystery. She has no intimate friends. Her companion knows as little what is in the widow's heart as do the horses of the fine carriage that brought us here."
    By this time, Robert had had quite enough of the widow. He had much rather hear of doings in France and wherever else Julian bad been.
    Obligingly the marquess turned to Talleyrand and Castle-reagh and Metternich and Czar Alexander and the rest, His anecdotes were, as one would expect, wickedly amusing, if the telling bored him even more than usual and his mind wandered elsewhere more than once, one of his listeners at .least did not remark it.

    The following Monday, Cecily's aunt accompanied her to the dressmaker's. As usual, Lilith's in-laws' notions of a proper Season's wardrobe had been sadly inadequate. Since this was usual, she was not taken unawares. She had carefully hoarded a sum for this express purpose. She would have probably done so in any case: treating her nieces to clothes and trinkets was one of her special pleasures.
    She entered the shop… and stopped short, her pleasure abruptly extinguished.
    Lounging in a chair, idly turning the pages of a fashion journal, was the Marquess of Brandon. He glanced up at their entrance, and his bored green eyes lit with amusement. Lazily he rose and made the ladies an extravagant bow.
    Her lips compressed in a tight line, Lilith took her niece's arm and swept coldly past him, on to the dressing-room door. At that instant; the door flew open, narrowly missing Cecily, and a woman sailed heedlessly through, Lilith stepped hastily out of the way and stumbled against her niece. The woman made no apology, but headed straight for Lord Brandon. She was the one who'd been in his box the previous evening.
    "Ah, pauvre homme" she cried. "Were you horribly bored, waiting?"
    "Unspeakably so," he answered. "That is, until the very last."
    Lilith bustled Cecily into the dressing room.
    "I do not understand," the niece said, "Is it not impolite to ignore an acquaintance?"
    "He is not an acquaintance," was the low answer. "We have not been properly introduced."
    "But at the inn — "
    Lilith turned to the eagerly listening modiste and asked for a moment's privacy. Reluctantly, Madame Suzette exited the room.
    In still lower tones, the aunt explained that it was her Christian duty to help a fellow human being in trouble. Having fulfilled her duty, she was no longer under any obligation to converse with or even acknowledge Lord Brandon. Even if she were inclined — which she certainly was not — she would never do so without a formal introduction. "A lady," she pointed out, "does not respond to every person who seeks her attention."

    Elise Fourgette was not only clever, but possessed of virtually infallible instincts. Though she teased Lord Brandon about the widow as soon as they were in his carriage, Elise knew this was merely a prelude.
    The marquess had come to London with a purpose. All of Robert's relatives, it seemed, had come on the same business. This time, however, her adversary was more than worthy of her mettle. Even without hearing of his reputa-tion, Elise would have sensed immediately that Lord. Brandon was a force to be reckoned with.
    He spent ten minutes fencing