arriage took
place, then the Lady Anna could not inherit the property which had
been freed from the grasp of the Italian mistress. But it seemed that
the lady, if she lived, could not be made to come. Mr. Flick did go
to Sicily, and came back renewing his advice to Sir William that Lord
Lovel should be advised to marry the Lady Anna.

At this time the Countess, with her daughter, had moved their
residence from Keswick up to London, and was living in very humble
lodgings in a small street turning out of the New Road, near the
Yorkshire Stingo. Old Thomas Thwaite had accompanied them from
Cumberland, but the rooms had been taken for them by his son, Daniel
Thwaite, who was at this time foreman to a somewhat celebrated
tailor who carried on his business in Wigmore Street; and he, Daniel
Thwaite, had a bedroom in the house in which the Countess lodged. The
arrangement was not a wise one, as reports had already been spread
abroad as to the partiality of the Lady Anna for the young tailor.
But how should she not have been partial both to the father and to
the son, feeling as she did that they were the only two men who
befriended her cause and her mother's? As to the Countess herself,
she, perhaps, alone of all those who interested themselves in her
daughter's cause, had heard no word of these insinuations against her
child. To her both Thomas and Daniel Thwaite were dear friends, to
repay whom for their exertions with lavish generosity,--should the
means to do so ever come within her reach,--was one of the dreams
of her existence. But she was an ambitious woman, thinking much
of her rank, thinking much even of the blood of her own ancestors,
constantly urgent with her daughter in teaching her the duties
and privileges of wealth and rank. For the Countess never doubted
that she would at last attain success. That the Lady Anna should
throw herself away upon Daniel Thwaite did not occur to her as a
possibility. She had not even dreamed that Daniel Thwaite would
aspire to her daughter's hand. And yet every shop-boy and every
shop-girl in Keswick had been so saying for the last twelvemonth,
and rumours which had hitherto been confined to Keswick and its
neighbourhood, were now common in London. For the case was becoming
one of the celebrated causes of the age, and all the world was
talking of the Countess and her daughter. No momentary suspicion had
crossed the mind of the Countess till after their arrival in London;
and then wh