h she received her with a gasp of astonishment,
was evidently very well acquainted with the fascinating foreign lady,
and though there was a little natural and national distrust of her at
first, as a person too remarkable, and who sang too well for the common
occasions of life, yet not to gaze at her, watch her, and admire, was
impossible. Lucy had been gratified with the success of her visitor.
Even though she was not sure that she was comfortable about her presence
there at all, she was pleased with the effect she produced. When the
Contessa sang there suddenly appeared out of the midst of the crowd a
slim, straight figure in a black gown, which instantly sat down at the
piano, played the accompaniments, and disappeared again without a word.
The spectators thronging round the piano saw that this was a girl, as
graceful and distinguished as the Contessa herself, who passed away
without a word, and disappeared when her office was accomplished, with a
smile on her face, but without lingering for a moment or speaking to any
one; which was a pretty bit of mystery too.

All this had happened on the night before Lady Randolph's summons to
Lucy. It was in the air that the party at the Hall was to break up after
the great entertainment; the Dowager was going, as she had said, to the
Maltravers'; Jock was going back to school; and though no limit of
Madame di Forno-Populo's visit had been mentioned, still it was natural
that she should go when the other people did. She had been a fortnight
at the Hall. That is long for a visit at a country house where generally
people are coming and going continually. And Lucy had begun to look
forward to the time when once more she would be mistress of her own
house and actions, with all visitors and interruptions gone. She had
been looking forward to the happy old evenings, the days in which baby
should be set up again on his domestic throne. The idea that the
Contessa might not be going away, the suggestion that she might still be
there when it was time to make the yearly migration to town, chilled the
very blood in her veins. But it was a thought that she would not dwell
upon. She would not betray her feeling in this respect to any one. She
returned the kiss which old Lady Randolph bestowed upon her at the end
of their interview, very affectionately; for, though she did not always
agree with her, she was attached to the lady who had been so kind to her
when she was a friendless little girl.