d her straight back"--the explanation was
given in that form by Mrs. Munden, who added that any cord pulled tight
enough would end at last by snapping. At the snap, in any case, we
mightily jumped, for the masterpiece we had for three or four months been
living with had made us feel its presence as a luminous lesson and a
daily need. We recognised more than ever that it had been, for high
finish, the gem of our collection--we found what a blank it left on the
wall. Lady Beldonald might fill up the blank, but we couldn't. That she
did soon fill it up--and, heaven help us, _how_ was put before me after
an interval of no great length, but during which I hadn't seen her. I
dined on the Christmas of last year at Mrs. Munden's, and Nina, with a
"scratch lot," as our hostess said, was there, so that, the preliminary
wait being longish, she could approach me very sweetly. "I'll come to
you tomorrow if you like," she said; and the effect of it, after a first
stare at her, was to make me look all round. I took in, by these two
motions, two things; one of which was that, though now again so satisfied
herself of her high state, she could give me nothing comparable to what I
should have got had she taken me up at the moment of my meeting her on
her distinguished concession; the other that she was "suited" afresh and
that Mrs. Brash's successor was fully installed. Mrs. Brash's successor,
was at the other side of the room, and I became conscious that Mrs.
Munden was waiting to see my eyes seek her. I guessed the meaning of the
wait; what was one, this time, to say? Oh first and foremost assuredly
that it was immensely droll, for this time at least there was no mistake.
The lady I looked upon, and as to whom my friend, again quite at sea,
appealed to me for a formula, was as little a Holbein, or a specimen of
any other school, as she was, like Lady Beldonald herself, a Titian. The
formula was easy to give, for the amusement was that her prettiness--yes,
literally, prodigiously, her prettiness--was distinct. Lady Beldonald
had been magnificent--had been almost intelligent. Miss What's-her-name
continues pretty, continues even young, and doesn't matter a straw! She
matters so ideally little that Lady Beldonald is practically safer, I
judge, than she has ever been. There hasn't been a symptom of chatter
about this person, and I believe her protectress is much surprised that
we're not more struck.

It was at any rate strictl