devoid of weakness or of shame. She found society extremely
interesting, and she always struck straight for the desirable things in
it, making short work of all those delicate tentative processes of
acquaintanceship by which men and women ordinarily sort themselves.
Rose's brilliant vivacious beauty had caught her eye at dinner; she
adored beauty as she adored anything effective, and she always took a
queer pleasure in bullying her way into a girl's liking. It is a great
thing to be persuaded that at bottom you have a good heart. Lady
Charlotte was so persuaded, and allowed herself many things in
consequence.

'What shall we talk about?' said Rose demurely. 'What a magnificent old
house this is!'

'Stuff and nonsense! I don't want to talk about the house. I am sick to
death of it. And if your people live in the parish, you are too. I
return to my question. Come, tell me, what is your particular line in
life? I am sure you have one, by your face. You had better tell me; it
will do you no harm.'

Lady Charlotte settled herself comfortably on the sofa, and Rose, seeing
that there was no chance of escaping her tormentor, felt her spirits
rise to an encounter.

'Really--Lady Charlotte--' and she looked down, and then up, with a
feigned bashfulness--'I--I--play a little.'

'Humph!' said her questioner again, rather disconcerted by the obvious
missishness of the answer. 'You do, do you? More's the pity. No woman
who respects herself ought to play the piano nowadays. A professional
told me the other day that until nineteen-twentieths of the profession
were strung up, there would be no chance for the rest; and as for
amateurs, there is simply _no_ room for them whatever. I can't conceive
anything more _passe_ than amateur pianoforte playing!'

'I don't play the piano,' said Rose meekly.

'What--the fashionable instrument, the banjo?' laughed Lady Charlotte.
'That would be really striking.'

Rose was silent again, the corners of her mouth twitching.

'Mrs. Darcy,' said her neighbour, raising her voice, 'this young lady
tells me she plays something; what is it?'

Mrs. Darcy looked in a rather helpless way at Catherine. She was
dreadfully afraid of Lady Charlotte.

Catherine, with a curious reluctance, gave the required information; and
then Lady Charlotte insisted that the violin should be sent for, as it
had not been brought.

'Who accompanies you?' she inquired of Rose.

'Mr. Langham plays very well,' said Rose