Every one began to laugh except Lord Florencecourt, and the suppliant turned to glance round gravely at the mockers. “Ah, but I’m not in fun,” she continued undeterred. “I am interested in this poor fellow--” Again Ella was obliged to give vent to an irrepressible little titter. “And I know that he ought to go out of town, and he won’t unless he gets an invitation where he feels sure that he will enjoy himself.” Unmindful of renewed signs of amusement, she ended: “His own people are clergymen and great-aunts and other things like that, so of course he will not go to them.” Lady Millard drew her down on to the ottoman beside her, repressing her own inclination to laugh. “And what is the name of the interesting young invalid?” “Dicky Wood.” “Dicky Wood!” and the three ladies echoed it in much astonishment. “Why, he is quite well!” “We saw him only the other day!” they cried. Nouna nodded sagaciously. “Of course,” she said, glancing round with a patronising sweep of the eyes at the two younger ladies, both of whom were considerably older than she, “your daughters cannot know so well as I do; I am a married woman, the boys come and talk to me; but I know that he is not well at all, and if he does not go away soon he will go into a decline, I believe.” She ended with such tragic solemnity that all the girls’ inclination to laugh at her ingenuousness died suddenly away. Lady Millard took off Nouna’s cap, smoothed her hair, and kissed her as if she had been one of her own daughters. She felt a strong sympathy for this little creature who dared to be impulsive and unconventional and natural in a country which to her had been full of iron bonds of strait-laced custom. “I will see if it can be managed, dear,” she said kindly. “Of course I can’t promise till I’ve seen Sir Henry.” Lord Florencecourt’s harsh voice rasped their ears just as the younger lady was heartily returning the kiss of the elder. “And pray what does Mrs. Lauriston’s husband say?” Nouna’s head sprang back with great spirit. “Mrs. Lauriston’s husband has only to say yes to whatever Mrs. Lauriston wishes, or he would be no husband for me,” she said decidedly. At this neither George nor any one else could help laughing. “Oh, Nouna, you don’t know what a reputation you’re giving us both!” he said, as soon as he could command his voice. “They’ll say I’m henpecked.” She looked for a moment rather dismayed, as if not quite measuring the force of the accusation. Then with a sudden turn towards him, her whole face aglow with affection, she said in a low, impulsive voice: “Does it matter what they say as long as we’re both so happy?” “No, child, it doesn’t!” cried Lady Millard, carried away by the young wife’s frank simplicity.