Helen was curious to know what sort of man Lady Louisa had married, for she recollected that no hero of any novel that ever was read, or talked of, came up to her idea of what a hero ought to be, of what a man must be, whom she could ever think of loving. Cecilia told Helen that she had seen Lord Castlefort, but that he was not Lord Castlefort, or likely to be Lord Castlefort, at that time; and she bade her guess, among all she could recollect having ever seen at Cecilhurst, who the man of Louisa’s choice could be. Lady Katrine, with infinite forbearance, smiled, and gave no hint, while Helen guessed and guessed in vain. She was astonished when she saw him come into the room. He was a little deformed man, for whom Lady Louisa had always expressed to her companions a peculiar abhorrence. He had that look of conceit which unfortunately sometimes accompanies personal deformity, and which disgusts even Pity’s self. Lord Castlefort was said to have declared himself made for love and fighting! Helen remembered that kind-hearted Cecilia had often remonstrated for humanity’s sake, and stopped the quizzing which used to go on in their private coteries, when the satirical elder sister would have it that _le petit bossu_ was in love with Louisa. But what _could_ make her marry him? Was there anything within to make amends for the exterior? Nothing--nothing that could “rid him of the lump behind.” But superior to the metamorphoses of love, or of fairy tale, are the metamorphoses of fortune. Fortune had suddenly advanced him to uncounted thousands and a title, and no longer _le petit bossu_, Lord Castlefort obtained the fair hand--the very fair hand of Lady Louisa Hawksby, _plus belle que fée!_ Still Helen could not believe that Louisa had married him voluntarily; but Lady Cecilia assured her that it was voluntarily, quite voluntarily. “You could not have so doubted had you seen the _trousseau_ and the _corbeille_, for you know, ‘_Le présent fait oublier le futur_.’” Helen could scarcely smile. “But Louisa had feeling--really some,” continued Lady Cecilia; “but she could not afford to follow it. She had got into such debt, I really do not know what she would have done if Lord Castlefort had not proposed; but she has some little heart, and I could tell you a secret; but no, I will leave you the pleasure of finding it out.” “It will be no pleasure to me,” said Helen. “I never saw anybody so out of spirits,” cried Lady Cecilia, laughing, “at another’s unfortunate marriage, which all the time she thinks very fortunate. She is quite happy, and even Katrine does not laugh at him any longer, it is to be supposed; it is no laughing matter now.” “No indeed,” said Helen.