’Hamilton Jocelyn—­all politics.  The stiff Englishman.  Not a shade of manners.  He invited me to drink wine.  Before I had finished my bow his glass was empty—­the man was telling an anecdote of Lord Livelyston!  You may be sure, my dear, I did not say I had seen his lordship.

’Seymour Jocelyn, Colonel of Hussars.  He did nothing but sigh for the cold weather, and hunting.  All I envied him was his moustache for Evan.  Will you believe that the ridiculous boy has shaved!

’Then there is Melville, my dear diplomatist; and here is another instance of our Harrington luck.  He has the gout in his right hand; he can only just hold knife and fork, and is interdicted Port-wine and penmanship.  The dinner was not concluded before I had arranged that Evan should resume (gratuitously, you know) his post of secretary to him.  So here is Evan fixed at Beckley Court as long as Melville stays.  Talking of him, I am horrified suddenly.  They call him the great Mel!  ’Sir Franks is most estimable, I am sure, as a man, and redolent of excellent qualities—­a beautiful disposition, very handsome.  He has just as much and no more of the English polish one ordinarily meets.  When he has given me soup or fish, bowed to me over wine, and asked a conventional question, he has done with me.  I should imagine his opinions to be extremely good, for they are not a multitude.

’Then his lady-but I have not grappled with her yet.  Now for the women, for I quite class her with the opposite sex.

’You must know that before I retired for the night, I induced Conning to think she had a bad head-ache, and Rose lent me her lady’s-maid—­they call the creature Polly.  A terrible talker.  She would tell all about the family.  Rose has been speaking of Evan.  It would have looked better had she been quiet—­but then she is so English!’

Here the Countess breaks off to say, that from where she is writing, she can see Rose and Evan walking out to the cypress avenue, and that no eyes are on them; great praise being given to the absence of suspicion in the Jocelyn nature.

The communication is resumed the night of the same day.

’Two days at Beckley Court are over, and that strange sensation I had of being an intruder escaped from Dubbins’s, and expecting every instant the old schoolmistress to call for me, and expose me, and take me to the dark room, is quite vanished, and I feel quite at home, quite happy.  Evan is behaving well.  Quite the young nobleman.  With the women I had no fear of him; he is really admirable with the men—­easy, and talks of sport and politics, and makes the proper use of Portugal.  He has quite won the heart of his sister.  Heaven smiles on us, dearest Harriet!