This the kind-hearted and not very far-seeing Mrs. Smithers said, because she had received the impression that the McPhersons of London slighted the McPhersons of Stoneleigh, not so much for their poverty, as for the fact that Daisy’s family was not equal to their own.

“And this I think very absurd,” she said to Daisy.  “I belong to the mercantile world, for my father is a Liverpool merchant, and at first Smithers’ mother and sisters were inclined to treat me coolly, though they are very friendly now; so, you see, my dear, I know how it feels not to be in perfect accord with one’s family, and I mean to do my best for you.  I shall bring you and Lady Jane together.  She is sure to like you.”

“Thank you.”  Daisy said.  “I hope she may, for Bessie’s sake.  She could be of use to her in the future; but, if you please, do not tell her she is to meet me, or she may decline your invitation.”

“Very well,” was Mrs. Smithers’ reply.  “I will say nothing about you.”

And so, without mentioning all her expected guests, Mrs. Smithers asked Lady Jane to visit her in August, and that lady, who had twice before enjoyed the hospitalities of Penrhyn Park, accepted readily, with no suspicion that the woman whom she detested more than any creature in the world was to be there also.

The house at Penrhyn Park was very large and commodious, with a wing on either side of the main building, and in these wings were situated the sleeping rooms for guests.  A wide hall divided the main part, and on the second floor were two large, airy chambers, opposite each other, with dressing-room, and bath-room, and alcove for bed attached, and the whole fitted up elegantly.  These rooms were usually given to the most honored guests, those who rejoiced in titles, and on the occasions of her former visits at Penrhyn, Lady Jane had occupied one, and her bosom friend, old Lady Oakley, the other.  But this time there was a change, and when Lady Oakley arrived with her maid, and her poodle dog, and her ear trumpet, for she was very deaf, she was assigned a room in one of the wings, her hostess telling her apologetically that she had thought it well to put the McPhersons together as they would thus get on better, and she was so anxious for Lady Jane to like Mrs. Archie, the sweetest, most amiable of women.  Lady Oakley, who knew that every apartment at Penrhyn was like a palace, cared little where she was put, and settled herself in her quarters the evening before the London McPhersons were expected, Daisy had been there a week or more, for she was prompt to the day.  Their funds were very low; they were owing seven pounds for lodgings in London, besides various bills to the green-grocer, the dry-grocer, the milkman, and the baker, and had barely enough to pay for their second-class tickets from London..

“I don’t know what we are going to do,” Archie said, when alone with his wife in the beautiful room over which Daisy had gone into ecstasies, exclaiming, as she seated herself in a luxurious easy-chair: