‘Nora, tell me all about it,’ said Lucy.

‘There will be nothing to tell,’ said Nora.

‘Tell it all the same,’ said Lucy.  ’And bring Hugh out to write a book of travels about the Mandarins.  Nobody has ever written a book about the Mandarins.’  So they parted; and when Sir Marmaduke and his party were taken off in two cabs to the Waterloo Station, Nora was taken in one cab to Eccleston Square.

It may be doubted whether any old lady since the world began ever did a more thoroughly Christian and friendly act that this which was now being done by Lady Milborough.  It was the end of July, and she would already have been down in Dorsetshire, but for her devotion to this good deed.  For, in truth, what she was doing was not occasioned by any express love for Nora Rowley.  Nora Rowley was all very well, but Nora Rowley towards her had been flippant, impatient, and, indeed, not always so civil as a young lady should be to the elderly friends of her married sister.  But to Lady Milborough it had seemed to be quite terrible that a young girl should be left alone in the world, without anybody to take care of her.  Young ladies, according to her views of life, were fragile plants that wanted much nursing before they could be allowed to be planted out in the gardens of the world as married women.  When she heard from Lady Rowley that Nora was engaged to marry Hugh Stanbury, ’You know all about Lord Peterborough, Lady Milborough; but it is no use going back to that now is it?  And Mr Stanbury has behaved so exceedingly well in regard to poor Louis,’ when Lady Milborough heard this, and heard also that Nora was talking of going to live by herself in lodgings! she swore to herself, like a goodly Christian woman, as she was, that such a thing must not be.  Eccleston Square in July and August is not pleasant, unless it be to an inhabitant who is interested in the fag-end of the parliamentary session.  Lady Milborough had no interest in politics, had not much interest even in seeing the social season out to its dregs.  She ordinarily remained in London till the beginning or middle of July, because the people with whom she lived were in the habit of doing so, but as soon as ever she had fixed the date of her departure, that day to her was a day of release.  On this occasion the day had been fixed and it was unfixed, and changed, and postponed, because it was manifest to Lady Milborough that she could do good by remaining for another fortnight.  When she made the offer she said nothing of her previous arrangements.  ’Lady Rowley, let her come to me.  As soon as her friend Lady Peterborough is at Monkhams, she can go there.’