easure and amusement in the face of her hostess,
between whom and the worldly old woman there sprang up a friendliness
that was almost instantaneous.

"And you are like a Cosway miniature yourself, my dear," said Lady
Tintern, peering out of her dark eyes at Lady Mary's delicate white
face. "Eh--the bright colouring must be a little faded--all the
Setouns have pretty complexions--and carmine is a perishable tint, as
we all know."

"Sarah has a brilliant complexion," struck in Mrs. Hewel, zealously
endeavouring to distract her aunt from the personalities in which she
preferred to indulge.

"Sarah looks like a milkmaid, my love," said the old lady, who did
not choose to be interrupted, "And when she can hunt as much as she
wishes, and live the outdoor life she prefers, she will get the
complexion of a boatwoman." She turned to Lady Mary with a gracious
nod. "But _you_ may live out of doors with impunity. Time seems to
leave something better than colouring to a few Heaven-blessed women,
who manage to escape wrinkles, and hardening, and crossness. I
am often cross, and so are younger folk than I; and your boy
Peter--though how he comes to be your boy I don't know--is very often
cross too."

"You have been very kind to Peter," said Lady Mary, laughing. "I am
sorry you found him cross."

"No; I was not kind to him. I am not particularly fond of cross
people," said the old lady. "It is Sarah who has been kind," and she
looked sharply again at Lady Mary.

"I am getting on in years, and very infirm," said Lady Tintern, "and I
must ask you to excuse me if I lean upon a stick; but I should like to
take a turn about the garden with you. I hear you have a remarkable
view from your terrace."

Lady Mary offered her arm with pretty solicitude, and guided her aged
but perfectly active visitor through the drawing-room--where she
stopped to comment favourably upon the water colours--to the terrace,
where John was sitting in the shade of the ilex-tree, absorbed in the
London papers.

Lady Mary introduced him as Peter's guardian and cousin.

"How do you do, Mr. Crewys? Your name is very familiar to me," said
the old lady. "Though to tell you the truth, Sir Peter looks so much
older than his age that I forgot he had a guardian at all."

"He will only have one for a few days longer," said John, smiling. "My
authority will expire very shortly."

"But you are, at any rate, the very man I wanted to see," said Lady
Tintern, who se