“She’s buried here—­that hizzie Betty;
  She did na gude—­so don’t ee fret ye!

“—­oh, there they are!”—­she ran to the window—­“Lady Winterbourne and Ermyntrude.  Doesn’t it make you laugh to see Lady Winterbourne doing her duties?  She gets into her carriage after lunch as one might mount a tumbril.  I expect to hear her tell the coachman to drive to the scaffold at Hyde Park Corner.’  She looks the unhappiest woman in England—­and all the time Ermyntrude declares she likes it, and wouldn’t do without her season for the world!  She gives Ermyntrude a lot of trouble, but she is a dear—­a naughty dear—­and mothers are such a chance!  Ermyntrude! where did you get that bonnet?  You got it without me—­and my feelings won’t stand it!”

Lady Ermyntrude and Betty threw themselves on a sofa together, chattering and laughing.  Lady Winterbourne came up to Marcella and enquired after her.  She was still slowly drawing off her gloves, when the drawing-room door opened again.

“Tea, Panton!” said Lady Winterbourne, without turning her head, and in the tone of Lady Macbeth.  But the magnificent butler took no notice.

“Lady Selina Farrell!” he announced in a firm voice.

Lady Winterbourne gave a nervous start; then, with the air of a person cut out of wood, made a slight advance, and held out a limp hand to her visitor.

“Won’t you sit down?” she said.

Anybody who did not know her would have supposed that she had never seen Lady Selina before.  In reality she and the Alresfords were cousins.  But she did not like Lady Selina, and never took any pains to conceal it—­a fact which did not in the smallest degree interfere with the younger lady’s performance of her family duties.

Lady Selina found a seat with easy aplomb, put up her bejewelled fingers to draw off her veil, and smilingly prepared herself for tea.  She enquired of Betty how she was enjoying herself, and of Lady Ermyntrude how her husband and baby in the country were getting on without her.  The tone of this last question made the person addressed flush and draw herself up.  It was put as banter, but certainly conveyed that Lady Ermyntrude was neglecting her family for the sake of dissipations.  Betty meanwhile curled herself up in a corner of the sofa, letting one pretty foot swing over the other, and watching the new-comer with a malicious eye, which instantly and gleefully perceived that Lady Selina thought her attitude ungraceful.

Marcella, of course, was greeted and condoled with—­Lady Selina, however, had seen her since the tragedy—­and then Lady Winterbourne, after every item of her family news, and every symptom of her own and her husband’s health had been rigorously enquired into, began to attempt some feeble questions of her own—­how, for instance, was Lord Alresford’s gout?

Lady Selina replied that he was well, but much depressed by the political situation.  No doubt Ministers had done their best, but he thought two or three foolish mistakes had been made during the session.  Certain blunders ought at all hazards to have been avoided.  He feared that the party and the country might have to pay dearly for them.  But he had done his best.