“Oh, papa! it is always papa,” said Mary, as her mother swept past her, almost sweeping her out of her seat. Mrs. Curtis was large and ample both in figure and drapery, and looked like Society impersonated as she swept round in front into the vacant space before Nancy, with a solemnity becoming the occasion. Nancy looked up alarmed at the coming of this large lady, and if it was partly defiance and resistance, it was also partly shyness, and fright, and ignorance as to what it was right to do, that kept her from rising to receive this imposing introduction. Mrs. Curtis made her a curtsey, which the girl blushing hotly, and confused between pride and shame and helpless ignorance, returned only with a little tremulous inclination of her head. Oh, if she only knew what was the most polite yet the most disdainful thing to do! “I am afraid you scarcely know who I am,” said the large lady, “Arthur has not had much time yet to tell you about his relations. I am your husband’s aunt, Mrs. Arthur; we are all very fond of him. But you have not seen any of the family yet, I am sorry to hear.” “No,” said Nancy, feeling waves of hot blood come up to her temples. She confronted her new acquaintance without looking at her, with eyes half concealed by her eyelids, dumbly defiant. Arthur’s relations might come and stare at her, and talk to her as they pleased, but she would make no advances. And they could not make much, she thought, out of yes and no. “Arthur shall tell me where you are, and I will come to see you to-morrow,” said Mrs. Curtis. “I think it is only right for his sake, and I hope you will not be frightened of me. I will do anything I can to be of use to you, for Arthur’s sake, that is, of course, if you wish it. Sir John Denham, I think,” she added, turning to him. Denham had withdrawn a few steps from the family meeting, as courtesy demanded. “I met you, I think, years and years ago at the Carringtons’, though I see you have forgotten me.” “As if that were possible!” said Denham, in a tone which half offended Nancy. He had pretended to be her friend and Arthur’s; yet here he was just as friendly with the enemy. “But they are going to begin again, I am afraid. Will you take this place,” he said, offering her his vacant chair. Mrs. Curtis paused to reflect that to place herself beside Arthur’s wife _in public_, was more than was required of her; more, indeed, than was perfectly discreet in the circumstances. So she made her doubtful niece-in-law a bow, and took Arthur’s arm again.