Place herself behind Kitty! Had her beloved friend run mad, she that was always so flighty? My Lady Verney to place herself in the rear, be hidden by another’s flounces, she who had posted day and night, all the way from Hertfordshire, upon the news of a probable vacancy about the Queen’s person! Was it possible that Kitty, with her Irish husband, labelled with such a name, could fancy that she was like to meet with the Queen’s favour? Susan was sorry for her poor friend. She tossed her head with a snort. My Lady Verney had something of the appearance of a handsome horse. But stupefaction succeeded indignation when Lord Courtown, very civilly addressing her, begged her to take her place with the other ladies in the rear of my Lady Kilcroney, for the royal party might be expected any moment. “Mrs. Tracy, ma’am, as one conversant in these matters, will you stand at my Lady’s elbow?--My Lady Kilcroney, Mrs. Tracy--Her Majesty’s Senior Bedchamber Woman, who is at the waters on her own account.” My Lady Verney, biting her lip, stamped heavily on her neighbour’s foot as she shifted her position. Turning at the low cry, her fierce black eyes met the plaintive green ones of Mrs. Lafone, who in spite of her discreet protestations, had taken as forward a place in the group as well she could. As a rule Molly was in no better favour with Susan Verney than with the rest of the coterie, but at that moment they shared a sentiment which made them suddenly and momentarily sympathetic. “Oh, my Lady Verney,” whispered Molly, “did you ever see anyone so sadly cocked up as our poor Kitty? It frightens me for her, it does indeed. I fear such pride must have a fall.” Although Susan could see no sign of this prognostication being fulfilled, it comforted her nevertheless; and she was able to bear, with a better equanimity than any who knew her would have thought possible, the painful spectacle of my Lady Kilcroney’s success with the Queen. Success it indubitably was, though Her Majesty was a dry woman and not given to displays of affability. It was evident that she had come prepared to be pleased with Kitty Kilcroney and that pleased she found herself. And truly, Kitty in her snowy flounces, so charmingly blushing under her wide-brimmed hat--which was indeed trimmed by Lydia’s niece, Miss Pamela Pounce--Kitty so daintily maternal with the sturdy little boy clutching his roses, was as pretty a picture as any would wish to gaze upon.