‘I had a great respect for Sir Abraham,’ Mr. Farnley explained, ’very great.  I heard that this lady’ (bowing to the Countess) ’was his daughter.’

Lady Jocelyn’s face wore an angry look, and Mrs. Shorne gave her the shade of a shrug and an expression implying, ‘I didn’t!’

Evan was talking to Miss Jenny Graine at the moment rather earnestly.  With a rapid glance at him, to see that his ears were closed, the Countess breathed: 

‘Not the elder branch!—­Cadet!’

The sort of noisy silence produced by half-a-dozen people respirating deeply and moving in their seats was heard.  The Countess watched Mr. Farnley’s mystified look, and whispered to Sir John:  ’Est-ce qu’il comprenne le Francais, lui?’

It was the final feather-like touch to her triumph.  She saw safety and a clear escape, and much joyful gain, and the pleasure of relating her sufferings in days to come.  This vista was before her when, harsh as an execution bell, telling her that she had vanquished man, but that Providence opposed her, ‘Mrs. Melchisedec Harrington!’ was announced to Lady Jocelyn.

Perfect stillness reigned immediately, as if the pic-nic had heard its doom.

‘Oh!  I will go to her,’ said her ladyship, whose first thought was to spare the family.  ‘Andrew, come and give me your arm.’

But when she rose Mrs. Mel was no more than the length of an arm from her elbow.

In the midst of the horrible anguish she was enduring, the Countess could not help criticizing her mother’s curtsey to Lady Jocelyn.  Fine, but a shade too humble.  Still it was fine; all might not yet be lost.

‘Mama!’ she softly exclaimed, and thanked heaven that she had not denied her parent.

Mrs. Mel did not notice her or any of her children.  There was in her bosom a terrible determination to cast a devil out of the one she best loved.  For this purpose, heedless of all pain to be given, or of impropriety, she had come to speak publicly, and disgrace and humiliate, that she might save him from the devils that had ruined his father.

‘My lady,’ said the terrible woman, thanking her in reply to an invitation that she should be seated, ’I have come for my son.  I hear he has been playing the lord in your house, my lady.  I humbly thank your ladyship for your kindness to him, but he is nothing more than a tailor’s son, and is bound a tailor himself that his father may be called an honest man.  I am come to take him away.’

Mrs. Mel seemed to speak without much effort, though the pale flush of her cheeks showed that she felt what she was doing.  Juliana was pale as death, watching Rose.  Intensely bright with the gem-like light of her gallant spirit, Rose’s eyes fixed on Evan.  He met them.  The words of Ruth passed through his heart.  But the Countess, who had given Rose to Evan, and the Duke to Caroline, where was her supporter?  The Duke was entertaining Caroline with no less dexterity, and Rose’s eyes said to Evan:  ‘Feel no shame that I do not feel!’ but the Countess stood alone.  It is ever thus with genius! to quote the numerous illustrious authors who have written of it.