I have not
exaggerated her capacities."

It was Monday. I said nothing, but I thought it strange that she did not
seem to consider that I was impatient to see my daughter. She should have
asked me to meet her at supper the following evening.

"You are just in time," said she, "to witness the last assembly of the
year; for in a few weeks all the nobility will leave town in order to
pass the summer in the country. I can't give you a ticket, as they are
only issued to the nobility, but you can come as my friend and keep close
to me. You will see everything. If I am asked who you are, I will say
that you have superintended the education of my son in Paris, and have
brought him back to me."

"You do me too much honour."

We continued talking till two o'clock in the morning, and she told me all
about the suit she had with Sir Frederick Fermer. He maintained that the
house she had built at a cost of ten thousand guineas belonged to him as
he had furnished the money. In equity he was right, but according to
English law wrong, for it was she who had paid the workmen, the
contractors, and the architect; it was she that had given and received
receipts, and signed all documents. The house, therefore, belonged to
her, and Fermer admitted as much; but he claimed the sum he had
furnished, and here was the kernel of the whole case, for she had defied
him to produce a single acknowledgment of money received.

"I confess," said this honest woman, "that you have often given me a
thousand pounds at a time, but that was a friendly gift, and nothing to
be wondered at in a rich Englishman, considering that we were lovers and
lived together."

She had won her suit four times over in two years, but Fermer took
advantage of the intricacies of English law to appeal again and again,
and now he had gone to the House of Lords, the appeal to which might last
fifteen years.

"This suit," said the honest lady, "dishonours Fermer."

"I should think it did, but you surely don't think it honours you."

"Certainly I do."

"I don't quite understand how you make that out."

"I will explain it all to you."

"We will talk it over again."

In the three hours for which we talked together this woman did not once
ask me how I was, whether I was comfortable, how long I intended to stay
in London, or whether I had made much money. In short she made no
enquiries what ever about me, only saying with a smile, but not
heedlessly,--

"I never have a p