hing face, and a voice quivering with
anger.

"This most amiable man," she cried out, "that you design for me, I know
everything about this most amiable man, and thank you and my family for
the present you make me! For the past year, what have you been doing?
Every one of you! my father, my brother, and you yourself, have been
filling my ears wit cruel reports against a poor boy, whom you chose
to depict as everything that was dissolute and wicked, when there was
nothing against him; nothing, but that he was poor. Yes, you yourself,
grandmamma, have told me many and many a time, that Clive Newcome was
not a fit companion for us; warned me against his bad courses, and
painted him as extravagant, unprincipled, I don't know how bad. How bad!
I know how good he is; how upright, generous, and truth-telling: though
there was not a day until lately, that Barnes did not make some wicked
story against him,--Barnes, who, I believe, is bad himself, like--like
other young men. Yes, I am sure there was something about Barnes in that
newspaper which my father took away from me. And you come, and you lift
up your hands, and shake your head, because I dance with one gentleman
or another. You tell me I am wrong; mamma has told me so this morning.
Barnes, of course, has told me so, and you bring me Frank as a pattern,
and tell me to love and honour and obey him! Look here," and she drew
out a paper and put it into Lady Kew's hands. "Here is Kew's history,
and I believe it is true; yes, I am sure it is true."

The old dowager lifted her eyeglass to her black eyebrow, and read
a paper written in English, and bearing no signature, in which many
circumstances of Lord Kew's life were narrated for poor Ethel's benefit.
It was not a worse life than that of a thousand young men of pleasure,
but there were Kew's many misdeeds set down in order: such a catalogue
as we laugh at when Leporello trolls it, and sings his master's
victories in France, Italy, and Spain. Madame d'Ivry's name was not
mentioned in this list, and Lady Kew felt sure that the outrage came
from her.

With real ardour Lady Kew sought to defend her grandson from some of
the attacks here made against him; and showed Ethel that the person who
could use such means of calumniating him, would not scruple to resort to
falsehood in order to effect her purpose.

"Her purpose!" cries Ethel. "How do you know it is a woman?" Lady Kew
lapsed into generalities. She thought the handwriting