“Yes, sure, and I should say she is a good round dozen of years your senior. She stays out at Nutfield with a bachelor brother, who is half a dozen years younger than she is; in short, who stands between her and you in point of age. I wish the difference had been the other way.” “Why, madam?” demanded Lady Bell, like a little Turk. “You need not look affronted.” Mrs. Siddons did not mind much having given the affront. “Try for your own sake, Miss Barlowe, and not be so thin-skinned; however, neither that defect, nor Mr. Charles Kingscote’s twenty-two years can be mended in a day. I told you that the villany of an uncle had nearly undone this generation at Nutfield, just as it happens in the plays; however, this man’s waste and fraud were discovered before it was too late. The Kingscotes have just been able to keep their place, which their friends have been nursing back to prosperity till the young man grew up. He is only waiting at home for a pair of colours, which he is certain to get in these war times, so that you may not be long troubled with him. An idle young man is a great trouble and snare. You see I think it right to warn you, Miss Barlowe”—Mrs. Siddons cleared her conscience—“before sending you to this situation.” “Mr. Charles Kingscote will not keep me back,” asserted Lady Bell, crossing her hands with an almost comical, youthful arrogance in her attitude, which expressed, “I shall put the young bumpkin in his proper place and keep him there, trust me for that.” What she said in words was, “But you have not told me my duties.” “Nor your salary; I am coming to them. However, I must state to you in fairness, Miss Barlowe, I also warned Miss Kingscote that her proposed companion was a very genteel, pretty young girl.” “I am much obliged to you, madam,” acknowledged Lady Bell in an accent of anything save obligation. “But she would not be warned any more than yourself,” protested Mrs. Siddons bluntly, “for the woman is a born idiot, though I don’t mean that you are similarly afflicted,” she broke off, laughing; “at the same time she is very good-natured, is this Miss Kingscote, as I hear. It need not be a harder task than another for you to have a little patience with her, and behave with reserve and prudence, as I do not doubt you will, to the brother.” “Madam, I am not going to be a companion to the brother,” objected Lady Bell, with solemn impatience; “what am I to do for the lady?”