a pause.

To this Lucy made no reply, and the tutor, who was sensitive, especially
as to bad taste, reddened at his inappropriate observation. He went on
hastily; "The Signorina--or should I say Mademoiselle di
Forno-Populo?--has a great deal of charm. I do not know if she is so
beautiful as her mother----"

"Oh, not her mother," cried Lucy quickly, with a smile at the mistake.

"Is she not her mother? The young lady's face indeed is different. It is
of a higher order--it is full of thought. It is noble in repose. She
does not seem made for these scenes of festivity, if you will pardon me,
Lady Randolph, but for the higher retirements----"

"Oh, she is very fond of seeing people," said Lucy. "You must not
suppose she is too serious for her age. She enjoyed herself last night."

"There is no age," said Mr. Derwentwater, "at which one can be too
serious--and especially in youth, when all the world is before one, when
one cannot tell what effect a careless step may have one way or another.
It is just that sweet gravity that charms me. I think she was quite out
of her element, excuse me for saying so, Lady Randolph, last night."

"Do you think so? Oh, I am afraid not. I am afraid she liked it," said
Lucy. "Jock, don't you think Bice liked it. I should much rather think
not, but I am afraid--I am afraid----"

"She couldn't like that little cad," said Jock, who had drawn near with
an instinctive sense that something was going on which concerned him.
"But she's never solemn either," added the boy.

"Is that for me, Jock?" said MTutor, with a pensive gentleness of
reproach. "Well, never mind. We must all put up with little
misunderstandings from the younger generation. Some time or other you
will judge differently. I should like to have had an opportunity again
of such music as we heard last night; but I suppose I must not hope for
it."

"Oh, do you mean Lord Montjoie's song?" cried one of the young ladies in
blue, who had drawn near. "Wasn't it fun? Of course I know it wasn't to
be compared to the Contessa; but I've no musical taste. I always confess
it--that's Edith's line. But Lord Montjoie _was_ fun. Don't you think
so, dear Lady Randolph," Miss Minnie said.

Mr. Derwentwater gave her one glance, and retired, Jock following.
"Perhaps that's your opinion too," he said, "that Lord Montjoie's was
fun?"

"He's a scug," said Jock, laconically, "that's all I think about him."

Mr. Derwentwater took the lad's arm. "