rsula half smiled: but there was a colour in
her cheek, and a thoughtfulness in her eyes, deeper than any that our
conversation warranted or occasioned. I was planning how to divert
Mrs. Jessop from the subject, when it was broken at once by a sudden
entrance, which startled us all like a flash of lightning.

"Stole away! stole away! as my husband would say. Here have I come in
the dusk, all through the streets to Dr. Jessop's very door. How is
she? where is she, ma petite!"

"Caroline!"

"Ah! come forward. I haven't seen you for an age."

And Lady Caroline kissed her on both cheeks in her lively French
fashion, which Ursula received patiently, and returned--no, I will not
be certain whether she returned it or not.

"Pardon--how do you do, Mrs. Jessop, my dear woman? What trouble I
have had in coming! Are you not glad to see me, Ursula?"

"Yes, very." In that sincere voice which never either falsified or
exaggerated a syllable.

"Did you ever expect to see me again?"

"No, certainly I did not. And I would almost rather not see you now,
if--"

"If Richard Brithwood did not approve of it? Bah! what notions you
always had of marital supremacy. So, ma chere, you are going to be
married yourself, I hear?"

"Yes."

"Why, how quietly you seem to take it! The news perfectly electrified
me this morning. I always said that young man was 'un heros de
romans!' Ma foi! this is the prettiest little episode I ever heard of.
Just King Cophetua and the beggar-maid--only reversed. How do you
feel, my Queen Cophetua?"

"I do not quite understand you, Caroline."

"Neither should I you, for the tale seems incredible. Only you gave me
such an honest 'yes,' and I know you never tell even white lies. But it
can't be true; at least, not certain. A little affaire de coeur,
maybe--ah! I had several before I was twenty--very pleasant,
chivalrous, romantic, and all that; and such a brave young fellow, too!
Helas! love is sweet at your age!"--with a little sigh--"but marriage!
My dear child, you are not surely promised to this youth?"

"I am."

"How sharply you say it! Nay, don't be angry. I liked him greatly. A
very pretty fellow. But then he belongs to the people."

"So do I."

"Naughty child, you will not comprehend me. I mean the lower orders,
the bourgeoisie. My husband says he is a tanner's 'prenticeboy."

"He was apprentice; he is now partner in Mr. Fletcher's tan-yard."

"That is nearly as bad.