ringe of cloud blown
by the breeze this sweet lady opened her bosom to, curled a lovely black
lace scarf: not Caroline's. If she laughed, the tinge of mourning lent
her laughter new charms. If she sighed, the exuberant array of her
apparel bade the spectator be of good cheer. Was she witty, men
surrendered reason and adored her. Only when she entered the majestic
mood, and assumed the languors of greatness, and recited musky anecdotes
of her intimacy with it, only then did mankind, as represented at Beckley
Court, open an internal eye and reflect that it was wonderful in a
tailor's daughter. And she felt that mankind did so reflect. Her
instincts did not deceive her. She knew not how much was known; in the
depths of her heart she kept low the fear that possibly all might be
known; and succeeding in this, she said to herself that probably nothing
was known after all. George Uplift, Miss Carrington, and Rose, were the
three she abhorred. Partly to be out of their way, and to be out of the
way of chance shots (for she had heard names of people coming that
reminded her of Dubbins's, where, in past days, there had been on one
awful occasion a terrific discovery made), the Countess selected Olympus
for her station. It was her last day, and she determined to be happy.
Doubtless, she was making a retreat, but have not illustrious Generals
snatched victory from their pursuers? Fair, then, sweet, and full of
grace, the Countess moved. As the restless shifting of colours to her
motions was the constant interchange of her semisorrowful manner and
ready archness. Sir John almost capered to please her, and the
diplomatist in talking to her forgot his diplomacy and the craft of his
tongue.

It was the last day also of Caroline and the Duke. The Countess clung to
Caroline and the Duke more than to Evan and Rose. She could see the first
couple walking under an avenue of limes, and near them that young man or
monkey, Raikes, as if in ambush. Twice they passed him, and twice he
doffed his hat and did homage.

'A most singular creature!' exclaimed the Countess. 'It is my constant
marvel where my brother discovered such a curiosity. Do notice him.'

'That man? Raikes?' said the diplomatist. 'Do you know he is our rival?
Harry wanted an excuse for another bottle last night, and proposed the
"Member" for Fallowfield. Up got this Mr. Raikes and returned thanks.'

'Yes?' the Countess negligently interjected in a way she had caught from
Lady