"I doubt if it would have made any difference," said Miss Jean. "What is to be will be; and making a curtsey to the Queen--unless one could get to be acquainted with Her Majesty, which would be a great honour and pleasure----" "It just makes all the difference," said Miss Margaret, who was more dogmatic; "it just puts the stamp upon a lady. If you're travelling it opens the doors of foreign courts, if you stay at home--well, there is always the Drawing-room to go to." "And can you go whenever you like, after you have been once introduced?" Lilias added, with a gleam of eagerness. "Surely, my dear; you send in your name, and you put on your court dress." "That will be very nice," said the girl. Her bosom swelled with a sigh of pleasure. "For of course the finest company must be always there, and you will hear all the talk that is going on, and see everybody--ambassadors and princes, when they come on visits. Of course you would not be of much importance among so many grand people, just like the 'ladies, &c.,' in Shakespeare. They say nothing themselves, but sometimes the Queen will beckon to them and send them a message, or make them hold her fan, or bring her a book; but you hear all the conversation and see everybody." "I am afraid," said Miss Jean, who had been watching an opportunity to break in, "you are thinking of maids-of-honour and people in office. Drawing-rooms----" but here she caught her sister's eye and broke off. "Maids-of-honour are of course the foremost," said Miss Margaret. "I don't see, for my part, why Lilias should not stand as good a chance as any. Her father was a distinguished soldier, and her grandfather, though he has not behaved well to us, was a man that was very well-known, and had a great deal of influence. And the Queen is very feeling. Why she might not be a maid-of-honour, as well as any other young lady, I am at a loss to see." Lilias jumped to her feet again, this time in a glow of pride and ambitious hope. "Me!" she said (once more not for want of grammar, but for stress of Scotch). Miss Jean, scarcely less excited, put down her knitting and softly clapped her thin hands. "That is a good idea; there is no one like Margaret for ideas," she said. "I see no reason why it should not be. She has the birth, and she would have good interest. She has just got to let herself be trained in the manners and the ways that are conformable. Silly lassie! but she would rather go to a little tea-party in the country." "No, no, no!" cried the girl, making a spring towards her, and throwing her arms round the speaker's neck. "You don't know me yet, for I _am_ ambitious; I should like to raise the house out of the dust, as you say--I, the last one, the end of all. That would be worth living for!" she cried, with a glow of generous ardour in her eyes.