Her husband, the man-riddle:  she was unable to rede or read him.  Her will could not turn him; nor her tongue combat; nor was it granted her to pique the mailed veteran.  Every poor innocent little bit of an art had been exhausted.  Her title was Lady Ormont her condition actually slave.  A luxuriously established slave, consorting with a singularly enfranchised set,—­as, for instance, Mrs. Lawrence Finchley and Lord Adderwood; Sir John Randeller and Lady Staines; Mrs. May, Amy May, notorious wife of a fighting captain, the loneliest of blondes; and other ladies, other gentlemen, Mr. Morsfield in the list, paired or not yet paired:  gossip raged.  Aminta was of a disposition too generously cordial to let her be the rigorous critic of people with whom she was in touch.  But her mind knew relief when she recollected that her humble little school-mate, Selina Collect, who had suffered on her behalf in old days, was coming up to her from the Suffolk coast on a visit for a week.  However much a slave and an unloved woman, she could be a constant and protecting friend.  Besides, Lord Ormont was gracious to little Selina.  She thought of his remarks about the modest-minded girl after first seeing her.  From that she struck upon a notion of reserves of humaneness being in him, if she might find the path to them:  and thence, fortified by the repose her picture of little Selina’s merit had bestowed, she sprang to the idea of valiancy, that she would woo him to listen to her, without inflicting a scene.  He had been a listening lover, seeming lover, once, later than the Granada sunsets.  The letter in her jewel-box urged Aminta to clear her conscience by some means, for leaving it unburnt.

CHAPTER VII.

EXHIBITS EFFECTS OF A PRATTLER’S DOSES

The rules in Lord Ormont’s household assisted to shelter him for some hours of the day from the lady who was like a blast of sirocco under his roof.  He had his breakfast alone, as Lady Charlotte had it at Olmer; a dislike of a common table in the morning was a family trait with both.  At ten o’clock the secretary arrived, and they were shut up together.  At the luncheon table Aminta usually presided.  If my lord dined at home, he had by that time established an equanimity rendering, his constant civility to Mrs. Pagnell less arduous.  The presence of a woman of tongue, perpetually on the spring to gratify him and win him, was among the burdens he bore for his Aminta.

Mrs. Pagnell soon perceived that the secretary was in favour.  My lord and this Mr. Weyburn had their pet themes of conversation, upon which the wary aunt of her niece did not gaze like the wintry sun with the distant smile her niece displayed over discussions concerning military biographies, Hannibal’s use of his elephants and his Numidian horse, the Little St. Bernard, modern artillery, ancient slingers, English and Genoese bowmen, Napoleon’s tactics, his