"Oh, I know all about the old friendship," said Lady Randolph. "I think
Tom should be ashamed of himself. He knows that in other houses where
the mistress knows more about the world. Yes, yes, she is an old friend.
All the more reason, my dear, why you should have as little to say to
her as possible; they are never to be reckoned upon. Didn't you hear
what he called her. _La_ Forno-Populo? Englishmen never talk of a lady
like that if they have any great respect for her; but it can't be denied
that this lady has a great deal of charm. And I would just keep her at
arm's length, Lucy, if I were you."

"Dear Aunt Randolph, why should I do that?" said Lucy, gravely. "If she
is Tom's friend, she must always be welcome here. I do not know her,
therefore I can only welcome her for my husband's sake; but that is
reason enough. You must not ask me to do anything that is against Tom."

"Against Tom! I think you are a little goose, Lucy, though you are so
sensible. Is it not all for his sake that I am talking? I want you to
see more of the world, not to shut yourself up here in the nursery
entirely on his account. If you don't understand that, then words have
no meaning."

"I do understand it, aunt," said Lucy meekly. "Don't be angry; but why
should I be disagreeable to Tom's friend? The only thing I am afraid of
is, should she not speak English. My French is so bad----"

"Oh, your French will do very well; and you will take your own way, my
dear," said the elder lady, getting up. "You all do, you young people.
The opinion of others never does any good; and as Tom does not seem to
be coming, I think I shall take my way to bed. Good-night, Lucy.
Remember what I said, at all events, about the magic lantern. And if you
are wise you will have as little to do as possible with La Forno-Populo
as you can--and there you have my two pieces of advice."

Lucy was disturbed a little by her elder's counsel, both in respect to
the foreign lady, whom, however, she simply supposed Lady Randolph did
not like--and in regard to her own nursery tastes and avoidance of
society;--could that be why Tom sat so much longer in the dining-room
and did not come in to talk to his aunt? She began to think with a
little ache in her heart, and to remember that in her great
preoccupation with the child he had been left to spend many evenings
alone, and that he no longer complained of this. She stood up in front
of the fire and pressed her hot forehead to t