eyes, did not detect the
meaning smile that just flashed in hers was changed into a tone of soft
sympathy. "You are right; rank is nothing--a cold, glittering marble,
with no soul under. Give me the rich flesh-and-blood life of the
people. Liberte--fraternite--egalite. I would rather be a gamin in
Paris streets than my brother William at Luxmore Hall."

Thus talked she, sometimes in French, sometimes in English, the young
man answering little. She only threw her shining arts abroad the more;
she seemed determined to please. And Nature fitted her for it. Even if
not born an earl's daughter, Lady Caroline would have been everywhere
the magic centre of any society wherein she chose to move. Not that her
conversation was brilliant or deep, but she said the most frivolous
things in a way that made them appear witty; and the grand art, to
charm by appearing charmed, was hers in perfection. She seemed to float
altogether upon and among the pleasantnesses of life; pain, either
endured or inflicted, was to her an impossibility.

Thus her character struck me on this first meeting, and thus, after
many years, it strikes me still. I look back upon what she appeared
that evening--lovely, gay, attractive--in the zenith of her rich
maturity. What her old age was the world knows, or thinks it knows.
But Heaven may be more merciful--I cannot tell. Whatever is now said
of her, I can only say, "Poor Lady Caroline!"

It must have indicated a grain of pure gold at the bottom of the
gold-seeming dross, that, from the first moment she saw him, she liked
John Halifax.

They talked a long time. She drew him out, as a well-bred woman always
can draw out a young man of sense. He looked pleased; he conversed
well. Had he forgotten? No; the restless wandering of his eyes at the
slightest sound in the room told how impossible it was he should
forget. Yet he comported himself bravely, and I was proud that
Ursula's kindred should see him as he was.

"Lady Caroline" (her ladyship turned, with a slightly bored expression,
to her intrusive hostess), "I fear we must give up all expectation of
our young friend to-night."

"I told you so. Post-travelling is very uncertain, and the Bath roads
are not good. Have you ever visited Bath, Mr. Halifax?"

"But she is surely long on the road," pursued Mrs. Jessop, rather
anxiously. "What attendants had she?"

"Her own maid, and our man Laplace. Nay, don't be alarmed, excellent
and faithf