to the stranger's opinion of itself.

Mrs. Pennycherry, the stranger would persist in regarding as a lady born
and bred, compelled by circumstances over which she had no control to
fill an arduous but honorable position of middle-class society--a sort
of foster-mother, to whom were due the thanks and gratitude of her
promiscuous family; and this view of herself Mrs. Pennycherry now clung
to with obstinate conviction. There were disadvantages attaching, but
these Mrs. Pennycherry appeared prepared to suffer cheerfully. A lady
born and bred cannot charge other ladies and gentlemen for coals and
candles they have never burnt; a foster-mother cannot palm off upon her
children New Zealand mutton for Southdown. A mere lodging-house-keeper
can play these tricks, and pocket the profits. But a lady feels she
cannot: Mrs. Pennycherry felt she no longer could.

To the stranger Miss Kite was a witty and delightful conversationalist
of most attractive personality. Miss Kite had one failing: it was lack
of vanity. She was unaware of her own delicate and refined beauty. If
Miss Kite could only see herself with his, the stranger's eyes, the
modesty that rendered her distrustful of her natural charms would fall
from her. The stranger was so sure of it Miss Kite determined to put
it to the test. One evening, an hour before dinner, there entered the
drawing-room, when the stranger only was there and before the gas
was lighted, a pleasant, good-looking lady, somewhat pale, with
neatly-arranged brown hair, who demanded of the stranger if he knew her.
All her body was trembling, and her voice seemed inclined to run away
from her and become a sob. But when the stranger, looking straight into
her eyes, told her that from the likeness he thought she must be Miss
Kite's younger sister, but much prettier, it became a laugh instead: and
that evening the golden-haired Miss Kite disappeared never to show her
high-coloured face again; and what perhaps, more than all else, might
have impressed some former habitue of Forty-eight Bloomsbury Square
with awe, it was that no one in the house made even a passing inquiry
concerning her.

Sir William's cousin the stranger thought an acquisition to any
boarding-house. A lady of high-class family! There was nothing outward
or visible perhaps to tell you that she was of high-class family. She
herself, naturally, would not mention the fact, yet somehow you felt
it. Unconsciously she set a high-class tone, diffu