Chapter 27 - Page 2

in her chair and scrutinized her
daughter. The fact was that she took in her every point, being an
astute censor of other women's charms.

"Stand up," she said.

Robin stood up because she could not well refuse to do so, but
she coloured because she was suddenly ashamed.

"You're not little, but you're not tall," her mother said. "That's
against you. It's the fashion for women to be immensely tall
now. Du Maurier's pictures in Punch and his idiotic Trilby did it.
Clothes are made for giantesses. I don't care about it myself, but
a girl's rather out of it if she's much less than six feet high.
You can sit down."

A more singular interview between mother and daughter had assuredly
rarely taken place. As she looked at the girl her resentment of her
increased each moment. She actually felt as if she were beginning
to lose her temper.

"You are what pious people call 'going out into the world'," she
went on. "In moral books mothers always give advice and warnings
to their girls when they're leaving them. I can give you some
warnings. You think that because you have been taken up by a
dowager duchess everything will be plain sailing. You're mistaken.
You think because you are eighteen and pretty, men will fall at
your feet."

"I would rather be hideous," cried suddenly passionate Robin. "I
HATE men!"

The silly pretty thing who was responsible for her being, grew
sillier as her irritation increased.

"That's what girls always pretend, but the youngest little idiot
knows it isn't true. It's men who count. It makes me laugh when
I think of them--and of you. You know nothing about them and they
know everything about you. A clever man can do anything he pleases
with a silly girl."

"Are they ALL bad?" Robin exclaimed furiously.

"They're none of them bad. They're only men. And that's my warning.
Don't imagine that when they make love to you they do it as if
you were the old Duchess' granddaughter. You will only be her paid
companion and that's a different matter."

"I will not speak to one of them----" Robin actually began.

"You'll be obliged to do what the Duchess tells you to do," laughed
Feather, as she realized her obvious power to dull the glitter
and glow of things which she had felt the girl must be dazzled
and uplifted unduly by. She was rather like a spiteful schoolgirl
entertaining herself by spoiling an envied holiday for a companion.
"Old men will run after you and you will have to be nice to them
whether you like it or not." A queer light came into her eyes.
"Lord Coombe is fond of girls just out