likes? What would he wish me to do and to be? You know his noble
nature, and I must look to you for guidance."

Lady Fawn was embarrassed. She had now seated herself on the sofa,
and Lizzie was close to her, almost enveloped within her mantle. "My
dear," said Lady Fawn, "if you will endeavour to do your duty by him,
I am sure he will do his by you."

"I know it. I am sure of it. And I will; I will. You will let me love
you, and call you mother?" A peculiar perfume came up from Lizzie's
hair which Lady Fawn did not like. Her own girls, perhaps, were not
given to the use of much perfumery. She shifted her seat a little,
and Lizzie was compelled to sit upright, and without support.
Hitherto Lady Fawn had said very little, and Lizzie's part was one
difficult to play. She had heard of that sermon read every Sunday
evening at Fawn Court, and she believed that Lady Fawn was peculiarly
religious. "There," she said, stretching out her hand backwards and
clasping the book which lay upon the small table,--"there; that
shall be my guide. That will teach me how to do my duty by my noble
husband."

Lady Fawn in some surprise took the book from Lizzie's hand, and
found that it was the Bible. "You certainly can't do better, my dear,
than read your Bible," said Lady Fawn,--but there was more of censure
than of eulogy in the tone of her voice. She put the Bible down very
quietly, and asked Lady Eustace when it would suit her to come down
to Fawn Court. Lady Fawn had promised her son to give the invitation,
and could not now, she thought, avoid giving it.

"Oh, I should like it so much!" said Lizzie. "Whenever it will suit
you, I will be there at a minute's notice." It was then arranged
that she should be at Fawn Court on that day week, and stay for a
fortnight. "Of all things that which I most desire now," said Lizzie,
"is to know you and the dear girls,--and to be loved by you all."

Lady Eustace, as soon as she was alone in the room, stood in the
middle of it, scowling,--for she could scowl. "I'll not go near
them," she said to herself,--"nasty, stupid, dull, puritanical
drones. If he don't like it, he may lump it. After all it's no such
great catch." Then she sat down to reflect whether it was or was not
a catch. As soon as ever Lord Fawn had left her after the engagement
was made, she had begun to tell herself that he was a poor creature,
and that she had done wrong. "Only five thousand a year!" she said
to herself;--for she ha