"This is too much for me," panted Lady Elizabeth, "I cannot pass my own door, and, I am only delaying you from your friend; tell Lady Desmond I broke down on the road--pray ring that bell for me, my lord; thank you, good-bye." "Pray," said Lord Effingham, as he and Kate continued to walk, side by side, "where did Lady Desmond pick up that curious specimen of the genus woman?" "She did not pick her up, I did--or rather she picked me up, and showed me kind and respectful attention, when less curious specimens of the human race had the taste and discernment to class me, with the children's maids, and nurses, frequenting Kensington Gardens." "Fairly hit, and deserved, I confess; yet I had hoped you were magnanimous enough to have buried that egregious mistake in oblivion." "So I do in general, and only remember it when your contempt for something I know to be good, though, perhaps unprepossessing in appearance, recalls to my mind the unfairness of judging the Lord Effingham to-day by the uncourteous stranger of last winter." He bit his lips in silence for a moment, and then, with a smile of unusual frankness, said-- "A retort from Miss Vernon is like a hair trigger in the hands of an angel with shining wings and snowy drapery; leave such carnal weapons to your imperial cousin; truth, simple and earnest, is at once your shield and spear; better say at once what is now in your mind, without circumlocution. 'You despise a good and a useful woman, who is worth a whole nation of '_vaut riens_,' like yourself.' Eh, Miss Vernon?" "That is rather too strong," said Kate, laughing. "Nevertheless, I have read your thoughts--I often do--I can read your cousin's; what a different book! Yet she is a splendid creature--how desperately--" And Kate, listening with all her soul, was almost startled into a scream by a sudden hand laid on her arm, and a breathless voice exclaiming-- "I have just seen Lady Elizabeth, Miss Vernon, and I ran after you to hear what all this arrangement about the band is. Ah, how do you do, Effingham?" And the two Miss Meredyths were incorporated in their party. The rest of the day passed over pleasantly enough; the pictures, the band, and the gardens kept them free from those "awful pauses" which so often desolate a day spent with country friends; while Lord Effingham's unwonted exertions to please and amuse Lady Desmond, _pro tem._ hushed every doubt, and enabled her to bear up heroically under the rampant agreeability of poor Mr. Storey at dinner. "Well, my dear," cried his wife, as she was putting on her bonnet, previous to her departure, "I am sure I have had the most delightful day, and, what is the best of all, is the prospect of such happiness and success before you--a more elegant man I never met, and so taken up with you--" "What are you talking about?" asked Kate. "Lord Effingham to be sure; and--" "How can you imagine such nonsense, dear Mrs. Storey," cried Kate, "it is too absurd, for--"