epithet and her flight from England together and they made up, to his perception, one of the little magnified embroilments which do duty for the real in superficial lives. It was worse to provoke Julia than not, and Peter thought Nick's doing so not particularly characteristic of his versatility for good. He might wonder why she didn't marry the member for Harsh if the subject had come up; but he wondered still more why Nick didn't marry her. Julia said nothing, again, as if to give him a chance to make some inquiry which would save her from gushing; but as his idea appeared to be to change the subject, and as he changed it only by silence, she was reduced to resuming presently:
"I should have thought you would have come over to see your friend the actress."
"Which of my friends? 1 know so many actresses," Peter rejoined.
"The woman you inflicted on us in this place a year ago—the one who is in London now."
"Oh, Miriam Rooth! I should have liked to come over, but I've been tied fast. Have you seen her?"
"Yes, I've seen her."
"Do you like her?"
"Not at all."
"She has a lovely voice," Peter hazarded, after a moment.
"I don't know anything about her voice—I haven't heard it."
"But she doesn't act in pantomime, does she?"
"I don't know anything about her acting. I saw her in private—in Nick Dormer's studio."
