of, but would not in reality have been without for the world.

In birth and blood she had nothing to yield to the Raeburns--so her
mother assured her. If things were to be vulgarly measured, this fact
too must come in. But they should not be vulgarly measured. She did not
believe in class or wealth--not at all. Only--as her mother had told
her--she must hold her head up. An inward temper, which no doubt led to
that excess of manner of which Miss Raeburn was meanwhile conscious.

Where were the gentlemen? Marcella was beginning to resent and tire of
the innumerable questions as to her likes and dislikes, her
accomplishments, her friends, her opinions of Mellor and the
neighbourhood, which this knitting lady beside her poured out upon her
so briskly, when to her great relief the door opened and a footman
announced "Lady Winterbourne."

A very tall thin lady in black entered the room at the words. "My dear!"
she said to Miss Raeburn, "I am very late, but the roads are abominable,
and those horses Edward has just given me have to be taken such tiresome
care of. I told the coachman next time he might wrap them in shawls and
put them to bed, and _I_ should walk."

"You are quite capable of it, my dear," said Miss Raeburn, kissing her.
"We know you! Miss Boyce--Lady Winterbourne."

Lady Winterbourne shook hands with a shy awkwardness which belied her
height and stateliness. As she sat down beside Miss Raeburn the contrast
between her and Lord Maxwell's sister was sufficiently striking. Miss
Raeburn was short, inclined to be stout, and to a certain gay profusion
in her attire. Her cap was made of a bright silk handkerchief edged with
lace; round her neck were hung a number of small trinkets on various
gold chains; she abounded too in bracelets, most of which were clearly
old-fashioned mementos of departed relatives or friends. Her dress was
a cheerful red verging on crimson; and her general air suggested energy,
bustle, and a good-humoured common sense.

Lady Winterbourne, on the other hand, was not only dressed from head to
foot in severe black without an ornament; her head and face belonged
also to the same impression, as of some strong and forcible study in
black and white. The attitude was rigidly erect; the very dark eyes,
under the snowy and abundant hair, had a trick of absent staring; in
certain aspects the whole figure had a tragic, nay, formidable dignity,
from which one expected, and sometimes got, the tone and