“But I always count on you, Jane,” she said.  “I count on you so much.”

“Oh! my lady,” Jane cried again, “it’s my comfort to believe it.  I’d lay down my life for your ladyship, I would indeed.”

Emily sat down, and on her face there was a soft, uplifted smile.

“Yes,” she said, and Jane Cupp saw that she was reflective again, and the words were not addressed exactly, to herself, “one would be quite ready to lay down one’s life for the person one loved.  It seems even a little thing, doesn’t it?”

Chapter Fourteen

Lady Walderhurst remained in town a week, and Jane Cupp remained with her, in the house in Berkeley Square, which threw open its doors to receive them on their arrival quite as if they had never left it.  The servants’ hall brightened temporarily in its hope that livelier doings might begin to stir the establishment, but Jane Cupp was able to inform inquirers that the visit was only to be a brief one.

“We are going back to Palstrey next Monday,” she explained.  “My lady prefers the country, and she is very fond of Palstrey; and no wonder.  It doesn’t seem at all likely she’ll come to stay in London until his lordship gets back.”

“We hear,” said the head housemaid, “that her ladyship is very kind to Captain Osborn and his wife, and that Mrs. Osborn’s in a delicate state of health.”

“It would be a fine thing for us if it was in our family,” remarked an under housemaid who was pert.

Jane Cupp looked extremely reserved.

“Is it true,” the pert housemaid persisted, “that the Osborns can’t abide her?”

“It’s true,” said Jane, severely, “that she’s goodness itself to them, and they ought to adore her.”

“We hear they don’t,” put in the tallest footman.  “And who wonders.  If she was an angel, there’s just a chance that she may give Captain Osborn a wipe in the eye, though she is in her thirties.”

“It’s not for us,” said Jane, stiffly, “to discuss thirties or forties or fifties either, which are no business of ours.  There’s one gentleman, and him a marquis, as chose her over the heads of two beauties in their teens, at least.”

“Well, for the matter of that,” admitted the tall footman, “I’d have chose her myself, for she’s a fine woman.”

Lady Maria was just on the point of leaving South Audley Street to make some visits in the North, but she came and lunched with Emily, and was in great form.

She had her own opinion of a number of matters, some of which she discussed, some of which she kept to herself.  She lifted her gold lorgnette and looked Emily well over.

“Upon my word, Emily,” she said, “I am proud of you.  You are one of my successes.  Your looks are actually improving.  There’s something rather etherealised about your face to-day.  I quite agree with Walderhurst in all the sentimental things he says about you.”