less good
humour, had made him sanction her first appearance? Still less, how
could he explain the mingling of more subtle sensations, the
recollections of a past which Sir Tom could not himself much approve of,
yet which was full of interest still, and the formation of an
intercourse which renewed that past, and brought a little tingling of
agreeable excitement into life when it had fallen to too low an ebb to
be agreeable in itself? He would not say a word of all this to Lucy. Her
purity, her simplicity, even her want of imagination and experience, her
incapacity to understand that debatable land between vice and virtue in
which so many men find little harm, and which so many women regard with
interest and curiosity, closed his mouth. And then he comforted himself
with the reflection that, as his aunt herself had admitted, the Contessa
had never brought herself openly within the ban. Men might laugh when
the name of La Forno-Populo was introduced, and women draw themselves up
with indignation, or stare with astonishment not unmingled with
consternation as the Duchess had done; but they could not refuse to
recognise her, nor could any one assert that there was sufficient reason
to exclude her from society. Not even when she was younger, and
surrounded by worshippers, could this be said. And now when she was
less---- But here Sir Tom paused to ask himself, was she less attractive
than of old? When he came to consider the question he was obliged to
allow that he did not think so; and if she really meant to bring out
that girl---- Did she mean to bring out that girl? Could she make up her
mind to exhibit beside her own waning (if they were waning) charms the
first flush of this young beauty? Sir Tom, who thought he knew women (at
least of the kind of La Forno-Populo), shook his head and felt it very
doubtful whether the Contessa was sincere, or if she could indeed make
up her mind to take a secondary place. He thought with a rueful
anticipation of the sort of people who would flock to Park Lane to renew
their acquaintance with La Forno-Populo. "By Jove! but shall they
though? Not if I know it," said Sir Tom firmly to himself.

Williams, the butler, was still more profoundly discomposed. He had
opened his mind to Mrs. Freshwater on various occasions when his
feelings were too many for him. Naturally, Williams gave the Contessa
the benefit of no doubt as to her reputation. He was entirely convinced,
as is the fashion of his