homage paid to her rank, and discover the humiliating fact that she was not always imposing.  By good luck for Miss Fairfax’s favor with her, Pascal’s maxim recurred to her memory—­that though it is not necessary to respect grand people it is necessary to bow to them—­and her temptation to be merry at Lady Angleby’s expense was instantly controlled.  Miss Burleigh could not but make a note of her sarcastic humor as a decidedly objectionable, and even dangerous, trait in the young lady’s character.  That she dissembled it so admirably was, however, to her credit.  After his first movement of satisfaction the squire was himself perplexed.  Elizabeth’s spirits were lively and capricious, she was joyous-tempered, but she would not dare to quiz; he must be mistaken.  In fact, she had not yet acquired the suppressed manner and deferential tone to her betters which are the perpetuation of that ancient rule of etiquette by which inferiors are guarded against affecting to be equal in talk with the mighty.  Mr. Fairfax proposed rather abruptly to go in to luncheon.  Jonquil had announced it five minutes ago.

“She is beautiful! beautiful!  I am charmed.  We shall have her with us—­a beautiful young woman would popularize our cause beyond anything.  But how would Cecil approve of that?” whispered Lady Angleby as she toiled into the adjoining room with the help of her host’s arm.

“Mr. Cecil Burleigh is wise and prudent.  He will know how to temporize with the vagaries of his womankind,” said the squire.  But he was highly gratified by the complimentary appreciation of his granddaughter.

“Vagaries, indeed!  The surest signs of sound and healthy progress that have shown themselves in this generation.”

Lady Angleby mounted her hobby.  She was that queer modern development, a democrat skin-deep, born and bred in feudal state, clothed in purple and fine linen, faring sumptuously every day, and devoted colloquially to the regeneration of the middle classes.  The lower classes might now be trusted to take care of themselves (with the help of the government and the philanthropists), but such large discovery was being made of frivolity, ignorance, and helplessness amongst the young women of the great intermediate body of the people that Lady Angleby and a few select friends had determined, looking for the blessing of Providence on their endeavors, to take them under their patronage.

“It is,” she said, “a most hopeful thing to see the discontent that is stirring amongst young women in this age, because an essential preliminary to their improvement is the conviction that they have the capacity for a freer, nobler life than that to which they are bound by obsolete domestic traditions.  Let us put within the reach of every young girl an education that shall really develop her character and her faculties.  Why should the education of girls be arrested at eighteen, and the apprenticeship of their brothers be continued to one-and-twenty?” This query was launched into the air, but Lady Angleby’s prominent blue eyes seemed to appeal to Bessie, who was visibly dismayed at the personal nature of the suggestion.