He brought tickets for a _matinee d'invitation_ in
Belgrave Square, at which a new and wonderful Russian pianiste was to
make a kind of semi-official _debut_, before an audience of critics and
distinguished amateurs, and the elect of the musical world. They wore
tickets which money could not buy, and were thus a meet offering for
Lady Lesbia, and a plausible excuse for an early call.
Mr. Smithson succeeded in seeing Lesbia alone, and then and there, with
very little circumlocution, asked her to be his wife.
Her social education had advanced considerably since that summer day in
the pine-wood, when John Hammond had wooed her with passionate wooing.
Mr. Smithson was a much less ardent suitor, and made his offer with the
air of a man who expects to be accepted.
Lesbia's beautiful head bent a little, like a lily on its stalk, and a
faint blush deepened the pale rose tint of her complexion. Her reply was
courteous and conventional. She was flattered, she was grateful for Mr.
Smithson's high opinion of her; but she was deeply grieved if anything
in her manner had given him reason to think that he was more to her than
a friend, an old friend of dear Lady Kirkbank's, whom she was naturally
predisposed to like, as Lady Kirkbank's friend.
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