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BY ORDER OF THE CZAR. 113 "Yes," Philip replied, "she allows many things which I don't think I should permit."

"Walter won't let us smoke," said Mrs. Milbanke; "not that we want to, but he won't have it at all, although he himself smokes from morning till night."

"Walter is very funny about his smoking," said Dolly; "he says it is a good thing for the house, and a good thing for him, but a bad thing for women taints their breath, makes them mannish, which he hates. But you have got a rather mannish woman in your picture, Mr. Forsyth."

"Do you think so?"

"Yes, but I suppose she is intended to be tragic, eh?"

"Yes."

"I thought so ; the young man is dying of cold and weariness, and she wants to help him, and that Cossack soldier won't let her. What a look she gives him! It will be a fine picture."

"Do you think so?" exclaimed Philip, with a smile of satisfaction. "Dick is pleased with it."

"Then it must be good," remarked Jenny, "if Mr. Chetwynd thinks so, and is not afraid to put his thoughts into words."

"Indeed, you seem to know me, Mrs. Milbanke. What a pleasant thing it is to have a character that every one can read like a book to wear one's heart upon one's sleeve, as Shakspere has it."

"For daws to peck at, eh ? Then I'm a daw, Mr. Chetwynd, thank you. You didn't think I knew my Shakspere, I suppose. Come, Dolly, now we must go. I have scored off Mr. Chetwynd, and I will not stay a minute longer."

"That is so like Jenny," Dolly remarks to Philip; "whenever she wins anything she leaves off. Some people lay down their cards or their bat or leave the tables when they lose, Jenny always leaves when she wins."

"Except that once, Dolly, at Monte Carlo; do you