As for Lady Georgina, having by this time completed her 'cure' at Schlangenbad (complexion as usual; no guinea yellower), she telegraphed for Gretchen--'I can't do without the idiot'--and hung round Lucerne, apparently for no other purpose but to send people up the Bruenig on the hunt for our wonderful new machines, and so put money in our pockets. She was much amused when I told her that Aunt Susan (who lived, you will remember, in respectable indigence at Blackheath) had written to expostulate with me on my 'unladylike' conduct in becoming a bicycle commission agent. 'Unladylike!--the Cantankerous Old Lady exclaimed, with warmth. 'What does the woman mean? Has she got no gumption? It's "ladylike," I suppose, to be a companion, or a governess, or a music-teacher, or something else in the black-thread-glove way, in London; but not to sell bicycles for a good round commission. My dear, between you and me, I don't see it. If you had a brother, now, _he_ might sell cycles, or corner wheat, or rig the share market, or do anything else he pleased, in these days, and nobody'd think the worse of him--as long as he made money; and it's my opinion that what is sauce for the goose can't be far out for the gander--and _vice-versa_. Besides which, what's the use of _trying_ to be ladylike? You _are_ a lady, child, and you couldn't help being one; why trouble to be _like_ what nature made you? Tell Aunt Susan from me to put _that_ in her pipe and smoke it!' I _did_ tell Aunt Susan by letter, giving Lady Georgina's authority for the statement; and I really believe it had a consoling effect upon her; for Aunt Susan is one of those innocent-minded people who cherish a profound respect for the opinions and ideas of a Lady of Title. Especially where questions of delicacy are concerned. It calmed her to think that though I, an officer's daughter, had declined upon trade, I was mixing at least with the Best People!