eman,
and him a marquis, as chose her over the heads of two beauties in their
teens, at least."

"Well, for the matter of that," admitted the tall footman, "I'd have
chose her myself, for she's a fine woman."

Lady Maria was just on the point of leaving South Audley Street to make
some visits in the North, but she came and lunched with Emily, and was
in great form.

She had her own opinion of a number of matters, some of which she
discussed, some of which she kept to herself. She lifted her gold
lorgnette and looked Emily well over.

"Upon my word, Emily," she said, "I am proud of you. You are one of my
successes. Your looks are actually improving. There's something rather
etherealised about your face to-day. I quite agree with Walderhurst in
all the sentimental things he says about you."

She said this last partly because she liked Emily and knew it would
please her to hear that her husband went to the length of dwelling on
her charms in his conversation with other people, partly because it
entertained her to see the large creature's eyelids flutter and a big
blush sweep her cheek.

"He really was in great luck when he discovered you," her ladyship went
on briskly. "As for that, I was in luck myself. Suppose you had been a
girl who could not have been left. As Walderhurst is short of female
relatives, it would have fallen to me to decently dry-nurse you. And
there would have been the complications arising from a girl being baby
enough to want to dance about to places, and married enough to feel
herself entitled to defy her chaperone; she couldn't have been trusted
to chaperone herself. As it is, Walderhurst, can go where duty calls,
etc., and I can make my visits and run about, and you, dear thing, are
quite happy at Palstrey playing Lady Bountiful and helping the little
half-breed woman to expect her baby. I daresay you sit and make dolly
shirts and christening robes hand in hand."

"We enjoy it all very much," Emily answered, adding imploringly, "please
don't call her a little half-breed woman. She's such a dear little
thing, Lady Maria."

Lady Maria indulged in the familiar chuckle and put up her lorgnette to
examine her again.

"There's a certain kind of early Victorian saintliness about you, Emily
Walderhurst, which makes my joy," she said. "You remind me of Lady
Castlewood, Helen Pendennis, and Amelia Sedley, with the spitefulness
and priggishness and catty ways left out. You are as nice as Thackeray