"She came----to introduce Bice and establish her in the world," Lucy said, in a faint tone. "Oh! Aunt Randolph, please do not let us discuss it! It is not what I like to think of. Bice will be sacrificed to the first rich man who asks her; or at least that is what the Contessa means." "My dear Lucy," said the Dowager, calmly, "that is reasonable enough. I wish the Contessa meant no worse than that. Most girls are persuaded to marry a rich man if he asks them. I don't think so much of that. But it will not be so easy as she thinks," the Dowager added. "It is true that beauty does much--but not everything; and a girl in that position, with no connections, or, at least, none that she would not be better without----" Lucy's attention strayed from this question, which once had been so important, and which now seemed so secondary; but the conversation must be maintained. She said at random: "She has a beautiful voice." "Has she? And the Contessa herself sings very well. That will no doubt be another attraction," said Lady Randolph, in her impartial way. "But the end of it all is, who will she get to go, and who will invite them? It is vain to lay snares if there is nothing to be caught." "They will be invited--here," said Lucy, faltering a little. "I told you I am to have a great gathering on the 26th." "I could not believe my ears. You!--and she is to appear here for the first time to make her _debut_. Good heavens, Lucy! What can I say to you--_that_ girl!" "Why not, Aunt Randolph?" said Lucy (oh, what does it matter--what does it matter, that she should make so much fuss about it? she was saying in herself); "I have always liked Bice, and she has been very good to little Tom." "Well," cried the angry lady, forgetting herself, and smiling the fierce smile of wrath, "there is no doubt that it is perfectly appropriate--the very thing that ought to happen if we lived according to the rules of nature, without thought of conventionalities and decorums, and so forth--oh, perfectly appropriate! If you don't object I know no one who has any right to say a word." Even now Lucy was scarcely roused enough to be surprised by the vehemence of these words. "Why should I object?" she said; "or why should any one say a word?" Her calm, which was almost indifference, excited Lady Randolph more and more. "You are either superhuman," she said, with exasperation, "or you are---- Lucy, I don't know what words to use. You put one out of every reckoning. You are like nobody I ever knew before. Why should you object? Why, good heavens! you are the only person that has any right---- Who should object if not you?"