“God bless you, aunt, for a sweet, kind little soul! But I’ll not see ’em—yes, I will, and you shall come too! Yet no,” sighed my lady, “no, ’twere better I front their claws alone—the cats. Come you to my rescue should they inflict themselves on me too long, dearest.” And having, with Mrs. Betty’s deft aid, smoothed her silks and laces, having patted and pulled at rebellious curls, my lady descended the broad stair and swept into the great reception-room, where a group of chattering ladies rose with one accord, chattering fond epithets, to embrace her, kiss, fondle and stare at her with eyes that took in for future reference every item of her apparel, every gesture, glance and flicker of her eyelash. “My dearest Herminia, welcome back to town!” cried Lady Belinda, with a pouncing kiss. “How vastly well you’re looking ... though a little worn, of course ... a trifle pale, my love!” “Pale, indeed!” sighed Lady Prudence, “and small wonder, my sweet soul, for who would not look pale and haggard under the circumstances?” “And such circumstances, Herminia love!” gasped Mistress Joyce, shuddering and turning up her large blue eyes soulfully. “To think thy fair, unblemished name should be even remotely associated with that—that monster, Sir John Dering! My heart bleeds for thee, thou poor, injured dear!” At this, every other lady sighed also and shuddered in unanimous horror, while the gentlemen scowled, nodded, rapped snuff-boxes loudly, snuffed ferociously and voiced their sentiments of indignant abhorrence. “A dem’d, lying scandal, by heaven!” exclaimed Lord Verrian. “A dooced scandalous lie, on my soul!” ejaculated Mr. Prescott. “Such infernal, audacious, dem’d impertinence should not be permitted for a dem’d moment, by Gad!” quavered fierce old Lord Aldbourne. “Paper should be publicly burned!” quoth Captain Armitage. “And the impudent editor-fellow instantly hanged!” added my Lord Sayle fiercely, while divers other gentlemen said much the same and quite as ferociously. “You are alluding to the report in _The Monitor_, I think?” inquired my lady serenely. “Indeed, yes, my dearest!” answered Lady Belinda languishing. “To the—the scandalous notice concerning you, my love, and that—that infamous Dering creature! Needless to say, dear Herminia, we are all positively sure that ’tis basely false—a most wicked invention not worthy a moment’s credit, though, to be sure—you was in France very lately, my sweet soul, was you not?” “Yes, dear Herminia,” sighed Lady Prudence, “and Mr. Scarsdale here assures us that he met and spoke with Sir John Dering on the road between Dieppe and Paris! Is it not so, sir?” “Beyond all question, ladies!” answered Mr. Scarsdale, stepping forward and bowing with a flourish. “Not only did I see Sir John, but conversed with him——” “Eh—eh?” cried old Lord Aldbourne pettishly, curving talon-like fingers about his ear. “Eh, sir—cursed with him, d’ye say? What about, pray?”