o
talk like one o'clock. Oh yes, I tell you!" He shook Elinor's hand at
such length in his gratitude for the inquiry that she was much relieved
when a servant in livery interrupted him.

"Missus wants to speak to you, sir, afore she goes," said the man.

Elinor shook her head at Marmaduke, and hurried away to rejoin the rest
outside. As they went through the courtyard, they passed an open
carriage, in which reclined a pretty woman with dark eyes and delicate
artificial complexion. Her beauty and the elegance of her dress
attracted their attention. Suddenly Marian became aware that Conolly was
watching her as she looked at the woman in the carriage. She was about
to say something, when, to her bewilderment, Elinor nudged her. Then she
understood too, and looked solemnly at Susanna. Susanna, observing her,
stared insolently in return, and Marian averted her head like a guilty
person and hurried on. Conolly saw it all, and did not speak until they
rejoined Mrs. Fairfax and Douglas in Piccadilly.

"How do you propose to go home?" said Douglas.

"Walk to St. James's Street, where the carriage is waiting at the club;
take Uncle Reginald with us; and drive home through the park," said
Elinor.

"I will come with you as far as the club, if you will allow me," said
Douglas.

Conolly then took leave of them, and stood still until they disappeared,
when he returned to the courtyard, and went up to his sister's carriage.

"Well, Susanna," said he. "How are you?"

"Oh, there's nothing the matter with me," she replied carelessly, her
eyes filling with tears, nevertheless.

"I hear that I have been an uncle for some time past."

"Yes, on the wrong side of the blanket."

"What is its name?" he said more gravely.

"Lucy."

"Is it quite well?"

"I suppose not. According to Nurse, it is always ill."

Conolly shrugged his shoulders, and relapsed into the cynical manner in
which he had used to talk with his sister. "Tired of it already?" he
said. "Poor little wretch!"

"It is very well off," she retorted, angrily: "a precious deal better
than I was at its age. It gets petting enough from its father, heaven
knows! He has nothing else to do. I have to work."

"You have it all your own way at the theatre now, I suppose. You are
quite famous."

"Yes," she said, bitterly. "We are both celebrities. Rather different
from old times."

"We certainly used to get more kicks than halfpence. However, let us
hope all that is over