want of liberality towards a foreigner on the part of a
lady of her education and refinement surprised me. I ventured to say,
"My lady, we must all remember not to be hasty in our judgments on our
inferiors--especially when they come from foreign parts." Lady Glyde
did not appear to attend to me. She only sighed, and kissed Miss
Halcombe's hand as it lay on the counterpane. Scarcely a judicious
proceeding in a sick-room, with a patient whom it was highly desirable
not to excite. But poor Lady Glyde knew nothing of nursing--nothing
whatever, I am sorry to say.

The next morning Mrs. Rubelle was sent to the sitting-room, to be
approved by the doctor on his way through to the bedroom.

I left Lady Glyde with Miss Halcombe, who was slumbering at the time,
and joined Mrs. Rubelle, with the object of kindly preventing her from
feeling strange and nervous in consequence of the uncertainty of her
situation. She did not appear to see it in that light. She seemed to
be quite satisfied, beforehand, that Mr. Dawson would approve of her,
and she sat calmly looking out of window, with every appearance of
enjoying the country air. Some people might have thought such conduct
suggestive of brazen assurance. I beg to say that I more liberally set
it down to extraordinary strength of mind.

Instead of the doctor coming up to us, I was sent for to see the
doctor. I thought this change of affairs rather odd, but Mrs. Rubelle
did not appear to be affected by it in any way. I left her still
calmly looking out of the window, and still silently enjoying the
country air.

Mr. Dawson was waiting for me by himself in the breakfast-room.

"About this new nurse, Mrs. Michelson," said the doctor.

"Yes, sir?"

"I find that she has been brought here from London by the wife of that
fat old foreigner, who is always trying to interfere with me. Mrs.
Michelson, the fat old foreigner is a quack."

This was very rude. I was naturally shocked at it.

"Are you aware, sir," I said, "that you are talking of a nobleman?"

"Pooh! He isn't the first quack with a handle to his name. They're all
Counts--hang 'em!"

"He would not be a friend of Sir Percival Glyde's, sir, if he was not a
member of the highest aristocracy--excepting the English aristocracy,
of course."

"Very well, Mrs. Michelson, call him what you like, and let us get back
to the nurse. I have been objecting to her already."

"Without having seen her, sir?"

"Yes, withou