Mrs. Henry Elmour naturally spoke of the happy days which they had spent together at Elmour Grove; but Miss Turnbull was so much occupied in clasping one of her diamond bracelets, that half of what was said to her seemed not to be heard, and the other half to create no interest. She looked up, when she had at length adjusted her bracelet, and with an insipid smile (learnt from Lady Pierrepoint) seemed to beg pardon for her fit of absence. The unfortunate Mrs. Elmour recommenced all she had said; but though Miss Turnbull’s eyes were at this time directed towards the widow’s face, they wandered over her features with such insolent examination, that she was totally abashed. Having gained her point, our heroine now looked round as the door opened, in expectation of the entrance of some persons who might be worthy of her attention; but, lo! it was only a servant, who announced that dinner was served. Miss Turnbull’s surprise could be equalled only by her indignation, when she found that it was literally to a _family party_ she was invited. “Miss Turnbull,” said Mrs. Wynne, as they were sitting down to dinner, “I have been much disappointed in not having the company of some friends of yours, who I expected would dine with us to-day; but they will be with us, I hope, to-night--they were unluckily engaged to dine with the Duchess of A----.” Miss Turnbull vouchsafed to appear interested, when the name of a duchess was mentioned; but her countenance again changed to an expression of almost angry vexation, when Mrs. Wynne explained, that these friends were Mr. and Mrs. Elmour, and Mr. Charles Wynne and his lady. “Miss Ellen Elmour, you know: she was----“--“Very true, I saw her marriage in the papers, I remember, some time ago,” replied Miss Turnbull; “a year, if I’m not mistaken.” “Two years ago, madam,” said Mrs. Wynne. “Was it two?--I dare say it might--you know it is so impossible to keep a register of deaths and marriages in one’s head. Pray, are you at all acquainted, Mrs. Wynne, with the Duchess of A----? She was always a prodigious friend of the Elmours, as I remember. How is that?--Are they any way related, I wonder?” “Yes; they are now related by marriage,” said Mr. Wynne; “Mrs. Elmour is a niece of the duchess.” “Indeed!” “She is a charming woman,” said Mr. Wynne; “so beautiful and yet so unaffected--so sensible, yet so unassuming.” “Pray,” interrupted Mrs. Ingoldsby, “has not her grace conversaziones, or reading parties, or something in that style every week?--She is quite a learned lady, I understand. There was always something odd about her, and I cannot help being afraid of her.” “I assure you,” said Mrs. Wynne, “that there is nothing odd or strange about the Duchess of A----. She has always the most agreeable society that London can afford.”