trapped. But Lesbia had _me_ at
her back, and she managed him perfectly. He is positively her slave; and
you will be able to twist him round your little finger in the matter of
settlements. You may do what you like with him, for the ground has been
thoroughly prepared by _me_.'

Lady Maulevrier's reply was not enthusiastic. She had no doubt Mr.
Smithson was a very good match, according to the modern estimate of
matrimonial alliances, in which money seemed to be the Alpha and Omega.
But she had cherished views of another kind. She had hoped to see her
dear granddaughter wear one of those noble and historic names which are
a badge of distinction for all time. She had hoped to see her enter one
of those grand old families which are a kind of royalty. And that Lesbia
should marry a man whose sole distinction consisted of an immense
fortune amassed heaven knows how, was a terrible blow to her pride.

'But it is not the first,' wrote Lady Maulevrier. 'My pride has received
crushing blows in days past, and I ought to be humbled to the dust. But
there is a stubborn resistance in some natures which stands firm against
every shock. You and Lesbia will both be surprised to hear that Mary,
from whom I expected so little, has made a really great match. She was
married yesterday afternoon in my morning room, by special licence, to
the Earl of Hartfield, the lover of her choice, whom we at Fellside have
all known as plain John Hammond. He is an admirable young man, and sure
to make a great figure in the world, as no doubt you know better than I
do, for you are in the way of hearing all about him. His courtship of
Mary is quite an idyll; and the happy issue of this romantic love-affair
has cheered and comforted me more than anything that has happened since
Lesbia left me.'

This letter, written in Fraeulein's niggling little hand, Lady Kirkbank
handed to Lesbia, who read it through in silence; but when she came to
that part of the letter which told of her sister's marriage, her cheek
grew ashy pale, her brow contracted, and she started to her feet and
stared at Lady Kirkbank with wild, dilated eyes, as if she had been
stung by an adder.

'A strange mystification, wasn't it?' said Lady Kirkbank, almost
frightened at the awful look in Lesbia's face, which was even worse than
Belle Trinder's expression when she read the announcement of Mr.
Smithson's flight.

'Strange mystification! It was base treachery--a vile and wicked lie!'
cri