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Tartar. Take me to your sister, at once.”
    “My sister? But surely I mentioned Boo has thrown out a few spots. Nickie as well, I think, which leads me to suspect a contagious disease. Measles very likely. You will be staying with Lady Graham.”
    “Clivedon! You can’t be serious. I will not stay with her. She is a positive ogre. I’ll go to Lady Withers. I have had the measles. I don’t mind that.”
    “I mind for you. Measles can be caught more than once, and you would not like to be ill at the height of the Season.”
    “I’d rather catch smallpox that go to that mausoleum in Mecklenberg Square. Why, she lives away out at the edge of Somers Town, miles from anywhere.”
    “There has been an excellent new road put in. You’ll see four or five stages a day pass by, to relieve the quiet. Till you are back in looks, Lady Barbara, I want you to lessen the pace of your socializing. It is a shame to see you run to seed at a relatively young age.” He turned and strolled at a slow pace towards the door. She remained where she stood. “Come along,” he invited.
    “I am not going to Lady Graham’s place. I refuse to be fobbed off in this manner.”
    He smiled at her fondly, as though she were an unruly child. “Oh, I have not the least intention of fobbing you off. I mean to take a very active concern for your well-being. You will find me tediously interested in all your doings. I have arranged outings for you both this afternoon and this evening.”
    She listened to this and found it gratifying. She still disliked both the location and character of her new keeper, but if Clivedon meant to dance attendance on her, it would be supportable. Rather a feather in her cap, to have him running at her heels.
    “Are you quite sure Lady Angela will approve of that?” she asked with a pert smile.
    “I have not discussed the matter with her,” he replied, smiling as he ushered her out the door and led her to his carriage.
    He was amusing all during the longish drive to Mecklenberg Square, talking of social doings. As he left her with Lady Graham, he mentioned that he would see her very soon. She assumed he meant that same afternoon, and wondered that he did not stay to luncheon, as the drive home and back again was long enough to occasion some inconvenience.
     
    Chapter 4
     
    Luncheon found Lady Barbara sitting across the table from a pair of ladies who strangely resembled Chinese mandarins. Age had yellowed their skin and slanted their eyes down at the outer edges to give them doleful expressions. Lady Graham was the chief mandarin, an overbearing dame with gray hair and wearing the last pair of tiered sleeves in London. The lace from these ancient relics was entrusted to no hands but her own, where it received twice weekly a washing in cream. It was the major physical act she had performed during the normal course of her days, but she had girded herself for more strenuous pursuits to amuse her guest. Her sister was slightly less ancient and a good deal less overbearing. In fact, she was a slave in all but name to the elder.
    “You look peaked, Lady Barbara,” Lady Graham accused. “Have you been ill?”
    “No, not at all.”
    “You are too thin. All skin and bone, like Mabel.” A glare was leveled on Mabel, who was indeed much less well fleshed than her corpulent sister. “Here, have a dish of this soft pudding. It will help pad you out. Ladies want padding; it pleases the gentlemen. And you will want nourishment for your outing this afternoon too. It is very wearing, racketing into town. We like our privacy here very well, but of course they stuck in a metaled road as soon as ever we got here.”
    Barbara accepted a heaping load of soft pudding, which she tasted before concealing it behind a bowl of fruit.
    “Have you ever been to Bullock’s Museum?” was the next speech.
    “I can’t say that I have.”
    “Good. You will like to see Napoleon’s carriage. It is on view there. One ought to take some