"So do I. If it ever goes wrong, come to me, and I'll turn it back." But John Huish did not feel quite satisfied, all the same. Volume 1, Chapter VIII. IN BORROWED PLUMES. There was a good deal of excitement in the Hampton Court dovecote, and a general touching up of plumage, for Lady Littletown, who resided at Hampton, so as to be near her dear old friend Lady Anna Maria Morton, who had rooms up a narrow dingy stone staircase in the corner of a cloistered court, in the private apartments at the Palace, had sent out cards for her dinner-party and "at home." Lady Littletown was rich, and her position in the society of the neighbourhood was that of queen. A widow for many years, she was always thinking of marriage. Not for herself. She had been through the fire, and found it hot. In fact, she bore her mental scars to her elderly age, for it was a well-known fact that the late Viscount Littletown was the extreme opposite of an angel. He had possessed a temper which grew and blossomed in wild luxuriance, and the probabilities are that he inoculated her ladyship with this peculiarity of spirit, for more than one of her domestics had been known to have declared that they would not live with the "old devil" any longer. This was very wicked, and the domestic young ladies who had made use of such expressions were much to be censured. But certain it was that the Viscountess was far from perfect, and that she was an inveterate match-maker. Probably she was of opinion that it would be a pleasant little piece of revenge on human nature to inveigle as many of her sex as possible on to the stormy sea of matrimony. At all events, a good many fashionable marriages resulted from plans laid by her ladyship and her female friends. Lady Littletown's friends were many, and included Lady Millet, whom she always addressed as "my dear," in spite of a pique which had arisen consequent upon the latter marrying her eldest daughter to that wealthy _parvenu_, Mr Frank Morrison. Now, according to Lady Littletown's code, this was not correct. Dear friends as they had been, Lady Millet should have obtained her help, seeing that marriages were her _metier_; but she had obstinately gone her own way, invited her to the wedding, and latterly had actually shown that she was scheming something about two gentlemen whom Lady Littletown had marked down for her own--to wit, Lord Henry Moorpark and Mr Elbraham, the great financier. "But, poor thing! she did not know how to manage Elbraham," said Lady Littletown to herself; "and as for dear Lord Henry, not if I know it, dearest I think I can manage that, and you may marry pink-and-white wax-doll Gertrude to someone else." So her ladyship issued her cards most discriminatingly and well, in her determination to let no rival in her circle interfere with her rights as high-priestess of Hymen to her dearest friends.