She looked so plaintively lovely as she proffered the request, so trustfully sure of his sympathy and understanding, that Trenor felt himself wishing that his wife could see how other women treated him—not battered wire-pullers like Mrs. Fisher, but a girl that most men would have given their boots to get such a look from.
"Out of spirits? Why on earth should you ever be out of spirits? Is your last box of Doucet dresses a failure, or did Judy rook you out of everything at bridge last night?"
Lily shook her head with a sigh. "I have had to give up Doucet; and bridge too—I can't afford it. In fact I can't afford any of the things my friends do, and I am afraid Judy often thinks me a bore because I don't play cards any longer, and because I am not as smartly dressed as the other women. But you will think me a bore too if I talk to you about my worries, and I only mention them because I want you to do me a favour—the very greatest of favours."
Her eyes sought his once more, and she smiled inwardly at the tinge of apprehension that she read in them.
"Why, of course—if it's anything I can manage———" He broke off, and she guessed that his enjoyment was disturbed by remembrance of Mrs. Fisher's methods.
"The greatest of favours," she rejoined gently. "The fact is, Judy is angry with me, and I want you to make my peace."
'Angry with you? Oh, come, nonsense———" his relief
