Lady Rachel was Lord Anthony’s only sister--a woman of five and thirty, who, thirteen years previously, had married a rich _parvenu_--plain, homely, much older than herself--for his money. She had no fortune as Lady Rachel Foster, and she was not particularly pretty; so she made the best available use of her title, and changed it for twenty thousand a year and the name of Jenkins. Mr. Jenkins liked being announced as “Lady Rachel, and Mr. Jenkins;” to be asked in a loud voice, in public places, “How is your wife--Lady Rachel?” For her part, she liked her fine house, servants, carriages, and jewels; and both were, to a certain extent, satisfied with their bargain. Perhaps of late years there had been a certain amount of disappointment. Lady Rachel went more and more into society, and drifted widely apart from Mr. Jenkins and his city friends. Mr. Jenkins was not considered an acquisition in her circles, which were a little rapid. He was given to understand--by deeds, not words--that he was rather a bore, and that he must not always be expecting to be tied to the tail of his brilliant, fashionable, frivolous little wife--and then, Mr. Jenkins was jealous! It was quite time that Anthony was married, thought his sister. He was not prepossessing in appearance. He was well known in society, and especially in her own set, as a fellow with an empty head, empty pockets, and a roving nature. He was not popular. She was aware that he had been rejected by heiress after heiress. He would not be modest and content with a plain girl, or an elderly widow, or even a faded spinster on the shady side of forty! No; Lord Anthony Foster must have beauty and money to boot, and there was no bidding for his coronet in the quarters these came from. Prudent mammas had set a mark against his name, and where his attentions would have been welcomed, he turned up his nose, and talked in a high moral manner about the sin of marrying one’s grandmother. His affectionate sister had vainly suggested one or two ladies that she had thought suitable, but until now Lord Tony had been too _difficile_, and her pains had gone for nothing! But now, oh, joy at last, he had found a girl almost, as one might say, to order--young, accomplished, ladylike, very pretty, and very rich. Lady Rachel already considered Madeline her sister-in-law, and had already selected her own gown for the wedding, so far ahead do some active, imaginative natures throw their mental life. There was nothing to wait for. Tony was willing--the old squatter was willing--and the girl--well, she was willing, of course.