sa hither, and not
Sir Ashley.

Such beauty, united with such understanding and brightness, Philippa had
never before known in one of her own sex, and she tried to think (whether
she succeeded I do not know) that she did not mind the propinquity; since
a woman so rich, so fair, and with such a command of suitors, could not
desire to wreck the happiness of so inoffensive a person as herself.

The season drew on when it was the custom for families of distinction to
go off to The Bath, and Sir Ashley Mottisfont persuaded his wife to
accompany him thither with Dorothy. Everybody of any note was there this
year. From their own part of England came many that they knew; among the
rest, Lord and Lady Purbeck, the Earl and Countess of Wessex, Sir John
Grebe, the Drenkhards, Lady Stourvale, the old Duke of Hamptonshire, the
Bishop of Melchester, the Dean of Exonbury, and other lesser lights of
Court, pulpit, and field. Thither also came the fair Contessa, whom, as
soon as Philippa saw how much she was sought after by younger men, she
could not conscientiously suspect of renewed designs upon Sir Ashley.

But the Countess had finer opportunities than ever with Dorothy; for Lady
Mottisfont was often indisposed, and even at other times could not
honestly hinder an intercourse which gave bright ideas to the child.
Dorothy welcomed her new acquaintance with a strange and instinctive
readiness that intimated the wonderful subtlety of the threads which bind
flesh and flesh together.

At last the crisis came: it was precipitated by an accident. Dorothy and
her nurse had gone out one day for an airing, leaving Lady Mottisfont
alone indoors. While she sat gloomily thinking that in all likelihood
the Countess would contrive to meet the child somewhere, and exchange a
few tender words with her, Sir Ashley Mottisfont rushed in and informed
her that Dorothy had just had the narrowest possible escape from death.
Some workmen were undermining a house to pull it down for rebuilding,
when, without warning, the front wall inclined slowly outwards for its
fall, the nurse and child passing beneath it at the same moment. The
fall was temporarily arrested by the scaffolding, while in the meantime
the Countess had witnessed their imminent danger from the other side of
the street. Springing across, she snatched Dorothy from under the wall,
and pulled the nurse after her, the middle of the way being barely
reached before they were enveloped in th