She had been heard to express a low opinion of her countrywomen who blindly fell down before the golden calf of Mr.Worth, and she had even fought a battle of great severity, while it lasted, with one of her best-dressed friends who had been invited--and had gone--to Mr.Worth's afternoon tea-parties.

The secret was that Mrs.Lee had artistic tendencies, and unless they were checked in time, there was no knowing what might be the consequence.

But as yet they had done no harm; indeed, they rather helped to give her that sort of atmosphere which belongs only to certain women; as indescribable as the afterglow; as impalpable as an Indian summer mist; and non-existent except to people who feel rather than reason.

Sybil had none of it.

The imagination gave up all attempts to soar where she came.