ould be the man in
livery!" She took my card with the corner of her apron, and did just
as well as the man in livery; but what would have happened to her had
her little speech been overheard by her mistress?

Crosbie hated the house in St. John's Wood, and therefore the coming
of the countess was a relief to him. Portman Square was easily to be
reached, and the hospitalities of the countess would not be pressed
upon him so strongly as those of the Gazebees. When he first called
he was shown into the great family dining-room, which looked out
towards the back of the house. The front windows were, of course,
closed, as the family was not supposed to be in London. Here he
remained in the room for some quarter of an hour, and then the
countess descended upon him in all her grandeur. Perhaps he had never
before seen her so grand. Her dress was very large, and rustled
through the broad doorway, as if demanding even a broader passage.
She had on a wonder of a bonnet, and a velvet mantle that was nearly
as expansive as her petticoats. She threw her head a little back as
she accosted him, and he instantly perceived that he was enveloped in
the fumes of an affectionate but somewhat contemptuous patronage. In
old days he had liked the countess, because her manner to him had
always been flattering. In his intercourse with her he had been able
to feel that he gave quite as much as he got, and that the countess
was aware of the fact. In all the circumstances of their acquaintance
the ascendancy had been with him, and therefore the acquaintance had
been a pleasant one. The countess had been a good-natured, agreeable
woman, whose rank and position had made her house pleasant to him;
and therefore he had consented to shine upon her with such light as
he had to give. Why was it that the matter was reversed, now that
there was so much stronger a cause for good feeling between them? He
knew that there was such change, and with bitter internal upbraidings
he acknowledged to himself that this woman was getting the mastery
over him. As the friend of the countess he had been a great man in
her eyes;--in all her little words and looks she had acknowledged his
power; but now, as her son-in-law, he was to become a very little
man,--such as was Mortimer Gazebee!

"My dear Adolphus," she said, taking both his hands, "the day is
coming very near now; is it not?"

"Very near, indeed," he said.

"Yes, it is very near. I hope you feel yourself a h