highly, that to her
All matter else seems weak."
--_Much Ado About Nothing._

Gwendolen's reception in the neighborhood fulfilled her uncle's
expectations. From Brackenshaw Castle to the Firs at Wanchester, where
Mr. Quallon the banker kept a generous house, she was welcomed with
manifest admiration, and even those ladies who did not quite like her,
felt a comfort in having a new, striking girl to invite; for hostesses
who entertain much must make up their parties as ministers make up
their cabinets, on grounds other than personal liking. Then, in order
to have Gwendolen as a guest, it was not necessary to ask any one who
was disagreeable, for Mrs. Davilow always made a quiet, picturesque
figure as a chaperon, and Mr. Gascoigne was everywhere in request for
his own sake.

Among the houses where Gwendolen was not quite liked, and yet invited,
was Quetcham Hall. One of her first invitations was to a large
dinner-party there, which made a sort of general introduction for her
to the society of the neighborhood; for in a select party of thirty and
of well-composed proportions as to age, few visitable families could be
entirely left out. No youthful figure there was comparable to
Gwendolen's as she passed through the long suite of rooms adorned with
light and flowers, and, visible at first as a slim figure floating
along in white drapery, approached through one wide doorway after
another into fuller illumination and definiteness. She had never had
that sort of promenade before, and she felt exultingly that it befitted
her: any one looking at her for the first time might have supposed that
long galleries and lackeys had always been a matter of course in her
life; while her cousin Anna, who was really more familiar with these
things, felt almost as much embarrassed as a rabbit suddenly deposited
in that well-lit-space.

"Who is that with Gascoigne?" said the archdeacon, neglecting a
discussion of military manoeuvres on which, as a clergyman, he was
naturally appealed to. And his son, on the other side of the room--a
hopeful young scholar, who had already suggested some "not less elegant
than ingenious," emendations of Greek texts--said nearly at the same
time, "By George! who is that girl with the awfully well-set head and
jolly figure?"

But to a mind of general benevolence, wishing everybody to look well,
it was rather exasperating to see how Gwendolen eclipsed others: how
even the handsome Miss Lawe, exp