The diplomatist, with a placid ‘Well, well!’ ultimately promised to do his best for Rose’s friend, and then Rose said, ’Now I leave you to the Countess,’ and went and sat with her mother and Drummond Forth.  The latter was strange in his conduct to Evan.  While blaming Laxley’s unmannered behaviour, he seemed to think Laxley had grounds for it, and treated Evan with a sort of cynical deference that had, for the last couple of days, exasperated Rose.

‘Mama, you must speak to Ferdinand,’ she burst upon the conversation, ’Drummond is afraid to—­he can stand by and see my friend insulted.  Ferdinand is insufferable with his pride—­he’s jealous of everybody who has manners, and Drummond approves him, and I will not bear it.’

Lady Jocelyn hated household worries, and quietly remarked that the young men must fight it out together.

‘No, but it’s your duty to interfere, Mama,’ said Rose; ’and I know you will when I tell you that Ferdinand declares my friend Evan is a tradesman—­beneath his notice.  Why, it insults me!’

Lady Jocelyn looked out from a lofty window on such veritable squabbles of boys and girls as Rose revealed.

‘Can’t you help them to run on smoothly while they’re here?’ she said to Drummond, and he related the scene at the Green Dragon.

’I think I heard he was the son of Sir Something Harrington, Devonshire people,’ said Lady Jocelyn.

‘Yes, he is,’ cried Rose, ’or closely related.  I’m sure I understood the Countess that it was so.  She brought the paper with the death in it to us in London, and shed tears over it.’

‘She showed it in the paper, and shed tears over it?’ said Drummond, repressing an inclination to laugh.  ’Was her father’s title given in full?’

’Sir Abraham Harrington, replied Rose.  ’I think she said father, if the word wasn’t too common-place for her.’

‘You can ask old Tom when he comes, if you are anxious to know,’ said Drummond to her ladyship.  ’His brother married one of the sisters.  By the way, he’s coming, too.  He ought to clear up the mystery.’

‘Now you’re sneering, Drummond,’ said Rose:  ’for you know there ’s no mystery to clear up.’

Drummond and Lady Jocelyn began talking of old Tom Cogglesby, whom, it appeared, the former knew intimately, and the latter had known.

‘The Cogglesbys are sons of a cobbler, Rose,’ said Lady Jocelyn.  ’You must try and be civil to them.’

‘Of course I shall, Mama,’ Rose answered seriously.

‘And help the poor Countess to bear their presence as well as possible,’ said Drummond.  ’The Harringtons have had to mourn a dreadful mesalliance.  Pity the Countess!’

‘Oh! the Countess! the Countess!’ exclaimed Rose to Drummond’s pathetic shake of the head.  She and Drummond were fully agreed about the Countess; Drummond mimicking the lady:  ‘In verity, she is most mellifluous!’ while Rose sugared her lips and leaned gracefully forward with ’De Saldar, let me petition you—­since we must endure our title—­since it is not to be your Louisa?’ and her eyes sought the ceiling, and her hand slowly melted into her drapery, as the Countess was wont to effect it.