eorge at the
Carlton."

She could only suppose, when her friend was gone, that this was the
right kind of thing. No doubt Lady Susanna had warned her against Mrs.
Houghton, but then she was not disposed to take Lady Susanna's warnings
on any subject. Her father had known that she intended to know the
woman; and her father, though he had cautioned her very often as to the
old women at Manor Cross, as he called them, had never spoken a word of
caution to her as to Mrs. Houghton. And her husband was well aware of
the intended intimacy. She picked up her husband, and rather liked
being kept waiting a few minutes at the club door in her brougham. Then
they went together to look at a new picture, which was being exhibited
by gas-light in Bond Street, and she began to feel that the pleasures
of London were delightful. "Don't you think those two old priests are
magnificent?" she said, pressing on his arm, in the obscurity of the
darkened chamber. "I don't know that I care much about old priests,"
said Lord George.

"But the heads are so fine."

"I dare say. Sacerdotal pictures never please me. Didn't you say you
wanted to go to Swann and Edgar's?" He would not sympathize with her
about pictures, but perhaps she would be able to find out his taste at
last.

He seemed quite well satisfied to dine with the Houghtons, and did, in
fact, call at the house before that day came round. "I was in Berkeley
Square this morning," he said one day, "but I didn't find any one."

"Nobody ever is at home, I suppose," she said. "Look here. There have
been Lady Brabazon, and Mrs. Patmore Green, and Mrs. Montacute Jones.
Who is Mrs. Montacute Jones?"

"I never heard of her."

"Dear me; how very odd. I dare say it was kind of her to come. And
yesterday the Countess of Care called. Is not she some relative?"

"She is my mother's first cousin."

"And then there was dear old Miss Tallowax. And I wasn't at home to see
one of them."

"No one I suppose ever is at home in London unless they fix a day for
seeing people."

Lady George, having been specially asked to come "sharp" to her
friend's dinner party, arrived with her husband exactly at the hour
named, and found no one in the drawing-room. In a few minutes Mrs.
Houghton hurried in, apologising. "It's all Mr. Houghton's fault
indeed, Lord George. He was to have been in town yesterday, but would
stay down and hunt to-day. Of course the train was late, and of course
he was so tired that h