“What a young lady to be so old a philosopher! I 'm sure Lord Lackington never so much as suspected the wisdom he acquired in his wife. It may, however, be a family trait.” “My father was so far wise, my Lady, that he warned me of the reception that awaited me in my new station; but, in his ignorance of that great world, he gave me, rather, to believe that I should meet insinuated slights and covert impertinences than open insults. Perhaps I owe it to my vulgar origin that I really like the last the best; at least, they show me that my enemies are not formidable.” “Your remarks have convinced me that it would be quite superfluous in me to offer my protection to a lady so conversant with life and the world.” “They will, at least, serve to show your Ladyship that I would not have accepted the protection.” “But, Lizzy dearest, you don't know what you are saying. Lady Georgina can establish your position in society as none other can.” “I mean to do that without aid.” “Just as her father, Mr. Grog, would force his way into the stand-house,” whispered Lady Lackington, but still loud enough for Lizzy to overhear. “Not exactly as your Ladyship would illustrate it,” said Lizzy, smiling; “but, in seeing the amount of those gifts which have won the suffrages of society, I own that I am not discouraged. I am told,” said she, with a great air of artlessness, “that no one is more popular than your Ladyship.” Lady Lackington arose, and stared at her with a look of open insolence; and then turning, whispered something in Beecher's ear. “After all,” muttered he, “_she_ did not begin it. Get your shawl, Lizzy,” added he, aloud; “my sister keeps early hours, and we must not break in on them.” Lady Lackington and Lizzy courtesied to each other like ladies of high comedy; it seemed, indeed, a sort of rivalry whose reverence should be most formal and most deferential. “Have n't you gone and done it!” cried Beecher, as they gained the street. “Georgina will never forget this so long as she lives.” “And if she did I 'd take care to refresh her memory,” said Lizzy, laughing; and the mellow sounds rang out as if from a heart that never knew a care. “I shall require to set out for England to-morrow,” said Beecher, moodily, so soon as they had reached the hotel. The speech was uttered to induce a rejoinder, but she made none. “And probably be absent for several weeks,” added he. Still she never spoke, but seemed busily examining the embroidered coronet on the corner of her handkerchief. “And as circumstances require--I mean, as I shall be obliged to go alone, and as it would be highly inconvenient, not to say unusual, for a young married woman, more especially in the rank you occupy, to remain in an hotel alone, without friends or relatives, we have thought--that is, Georgy and I have considered--that you should stay with her.” Lizzy only smiled; but what that strange smile might signify it was far beyond Beecher's skill to read.