"You have only to express the wish and the thing is done!" Wrotham twirled his moustache again.
"Awful fun having a friend on the press, don't-cher-know!" he went on.
"I get all my lady acquaintances into the papers,--makes 'em famous in a day! The women I like are made to look beautiful, and those I don't like are turned into frights--positive old horrors, give you my life! Easily done, you know!--touch up a negative whichever way you fancy, and there you are!" The girl Grace lifted her eyes,--very pretty sparkling eyes they were,--and regarded him with a mutinous air of contempt.
"It must be 'awfully' amusing!" she said sarcastically.
"It is!--give you my life!" And his lordship played with a charm in the shape of an enamelled pig which dangled at his watch-chain.

"It pleases all parties except those whom I want to rub up the wrong way.

I've made many a woman's hair curl, I can tell you! You'll be my 'Somersetshire beauty,' won't you, Miss Grace ?" "I think not!" she replied, with a cool glance.

"My hair curls quite enough already.

I never use tongs!" Brookfield burst into a laugh, and the laugh was echoed murmurously by the other men in the room.