* * * * *

When the ladies rose, Lady Grosville led the way to the large drawing-room, a room which, like the library, had some character, and a thin elegance of style, not, however, warmed and harmonized by the delightful presence of books.  The walls, blue and white in color, were panelled in stucco relief.  A few family portraits, stiff handlings of stiff people, were placed each in the exact centre of its respective panel.  There were a few cases of china and a few polished tables.  A crimson Brussels carpet, chosen by Lady Grosville for its “cheerfulness,” covered the floor, and there was a large white sheepskin rug before the fireplace.  A few hyacinths in pots, and the bright fire supplied the only gay and living notes—­before the ladies arrived.

Still, for an English eye, the room had a certain cold charm, was moreover full of history.  It hardly deserved at any rate the shiver with which Kitty Bristol looked round it.

But she had little time to dwell upon the room and its meanings, for Lady Grosville approached her with a manner which still showed signs of the catastrophe before dinner.

“Kitty, I think you don’t know Miss Lyster yet—­Mary Lyster—­she wants to be introduced to you.”

Mary advanced smiling; Kitty held out a limp hand, and they exchanged a few words standing in the centre of the floor, while the other guests found seats.

“What a charming contrast!” said Lady Edith Manley in Lady Grosville’s ear.  She nodded smiling towards the standing pair—­struck by the fine straight lines of Mary’s satin dress, the roundness of her fine figure, the oval of her head and face, and then by the little, vibrating, tempestuous creature beside her, so distinguished, in spite of the billowing flounces and ribbons, so direct and significant, amid all the elaboration.

“Kitty is ridiculously overdressed,” said Lady Grosville.  “I hope we shall soon change that.  My girls are going to take her to their woman.”

Lady Edith put up her eye-glass slowly and looked at the two Grosville girls; then back at Kitty.

Meanwhile a few perfunctory questions and answers were passing between Miss Lyster and her companion.  Mary’s aspect as she talked was extremely amiable; one might have called it indulgent, perhaps even by an adjective that implied a yet further shade of delicate superiority.  Kitty met it by the same “grand manner” that Ashe had several times observed in her, a manner caught perhaps from some French model, and caricatured in the taking.  Her eyes meanwhile took note of Mary’s face and dress, and while she listened her small teeth tormented her under-lip, as though she restrained impatience.  All at once in the midst of some information that Miss Lyster was lucidly giving, Kitty made an impetuous turn.  She had caught some words on the farther side of the room; and she looked hard, eagerly, at the speaker.