"And I tell you, never! as I've told you before. Look here, Simnel," said she, pulling up short; "let's have this out now. I don't like you; I never did, and I never shall! and I don't want you at my place. Do you understand?" "Perfectly," said Simnel, with a hard smile; "and yet I think I must come. I want to say something specially particular to you." "What about? What you've said before? About yourself?" "No," said Simnel, smiling as before; "I never say things twice over. I want to talk to you about a friend of ours--Charles Beresford." "Charles Beresford?--what of him?" "That's just what I propose to come and tell you." Their eyes met. The next instant Kate cast hers down as she said, "I shall be at home on Friday from two till six. You can come then." "You may depend on me," said Simnel; "I'll not bore you any longer." He raised his hat with perfect politeness, turned his horse, and rode slowly away. CHAPTER XX. THE CHURCHILLS AT HOME. Three months' experience sufficiently indoctrinated Barbara Churchill into her new life. At the end of that time she could scarcely have been recognised as the Barbara Lexden who had held her own for three seasons, and done undisputed havoc among the detrimentals: not that she was changed in appearance; that grand _hauteur_, that indefinable something of delicacy, breeding, and refinement, was even more noticeable than ever; if any thing, her nostrils were more frequently expanded, her lips more constantly in their curve; nor had her eyes lost their brightness, her figure its trim form, her walk its grace and elegance. Though Parker had long since served under another mistress Barbara's hair had never been more artistically arranged than by her own hands; and though her dress had been modified from the nearest approach to excess in the prevailing fashion which good taste would permit to the merest simplicity, she had never, even in the height of her queendom, been more becomingly attired than in the plain silk dresses and simple linen collars and cuffs which she donned in Great Adullam Street. Where was the change, then? whence the source of the alteration? In truth she herself could scarcely tell; or if the idea ever rose in her mind she thrust it out instantly, arguing within herself, in a thousand unimpressive, undecisive, unsatisfactory ways, that she did _not_ feel as she had imagined, and that she was merely "a little low."