'this woman, with a soul so
essentially vulgar, claims rank above me!' The reflection generated
contempt of English society, in the first place, and then a passionate
desire for self-assertion.

She was startled by a direct attack which aroused her momentarily lulled
energies.

A lady, quite a stranger, a dry simpering lady, caught the Countess's
benevolent passing gaze, and leaning forward, said: 'I hope her ladyship
bears her affliction as well as can be expected?'

In military parlance, the Countess was taken in flank. Another would
have asked--What ladyship? To whom do you allude, may I beg to inquire?
The Countess knew better. Rapid as light it shot through her that the
relict of Sir Abraham was meant, and this she divined because she was
aware that devilish malignity was watching to trip her.

A little conversation happening to buzz at the instant, the Countess
merely turned her chin to an angle, agitated her brows very gently, and
crowned the performance with a mournful smile. All that a woman must
feel at the demise of so precious a thing as a husband, was therein
eloquently expressed: and at the same time, if explanations ensued,
there were numerous ladyships in the world, whom the Countess did not
mind afflicting, should she be hard pressed.

'I knew him so well!' resumed the horrid woman, addressing anybody. 'It
was so sad! so unexpected! but he was so subject to affection of the
throat. And I was so sorry I could not get down to him in time. I had
not seen him since his marriage, when I was a girl!--and to meet one
of his children!--But, my dear, in quinsey, I have heard that there is
nothing on earth like a good hearty laugh.'

Mr. Raikes hearing this, sucked down the flavour of a glass of
champagne, and with a look of fierce jollity, interposed, as if
specially charged by Providence to make plain to the persecuted Countess
his mission and business there: 'Then our vocation is at last revealed
to us! Quinsey-doctor! I remember when a boy, wandering over the
paternal mansion, and envying the life of a tinker, which my mother did
not think a good omen in me. But the traps of a Quinsey-doctor are even
lighter. Say twenty good jokes, and two or three of a practical kind. A
man most enviable!'

'It appears,' he remarked aloud to one of the Conley girls, 'that
quinsey is needed before a joke is properly appreciated.'

'I like fun,' said she, but had not apparently discovered it.

What did that odious