Sir Charles and Lady Selcourt came to attend the wedding, and Lord Montreville soon perceived that Lady Selcourt was an unexceptionable person for Lady Montreville, or any other lady, to appear with in public; but he doubted whether her society at home would be as advantageous for any newly-married young woman. Her figure, which was always beautiful, was dressed in the most perfect taste; her eyes, which were very large and very dark, became lustrous from the addition of rouge, which, as we anticipated, she now habitually wore; and in the evening her skin, which by daylight was yellowish, became brilliantly white. There was not a fault to be found in her own manner; but Lord Montreville soon perceived by Sir Charles’s that she had proved not the weaker, but the stronger vessel. The morning after Lady Selcourt’s arrival in London, the sisters went shopping together; and after tossing over various silks and gauzes, they both fixed upon one which they pronounced to be quite lovely; when Lucy suddenly checked herself, saying— “Oh, no, I won’t have it though, for Lord Montreville does not like pink!” “Well, but he is not going to wear it himself,” answered Lady Selcourt. “But, I mean, he does not like that I should wear pink.” “My dear Lucy, you are not going to yield to all his fancies in this manner? You will entirely spoil him; you will make a tyrant of him. It would not do with a young man!” “It would not do with a young man,” grated rather unpleasantly on Lucy’s ears. However, when they were once more seated in the carriage, she resumed, “But, my dear Sophy, one must please one’s husband, you know; and though you would have that pink gauze sent with the others we are to look at by candle-light, I do not mean to buy it. Surely it is not worth while to annoy any one, for the colour of a gown.”