“You seem amused, Madame!” said Harriet presently. “I was thinking of you, and all the young men who are doomed to be slaughtered by those eyes of yours,” said the Baroness. “You’d make mischief enough amongst _my_ friends, I bet, if I ’ad you at the Red ’Ouse!” Harriet felt flattered and consciously pleased. She had never received a compliment in the Convent--no one had ever hinted that she was pretty, and she had had no opportunity of hearing it since. “Do you think I am handsome then?” she enquired with a heightened colour. “I think you’re a deal worse! I think you’re dangerous!” replied her new friend, “and I wouldn’t trust you with the Baron any further than I could see you!” “O! how can you say so?” exclaimed the girl, though she was pleased all the same to hear it said. “I wouldn’t, and that’s the truth! Gustave’s an awful fellow after the gals. I ’ave to keep a tight ’old on ’im, I can tell you, and the more you keep out of ’is way, the better I shall be pleased! You’ll make a grand match some day, if you’re only sharp and keep your eyes open.” “What do you call a grand match?” asked Harriet, as she let the nurse take the sleeping child from her arms without remonstrance. “Why! a Lord or an Honourable at the very least! since you ’ave money of your own. It’s money they’re all after in these times, you know--why! we ’ave dooks and markisses marrying all sorts of gals from Amurrica--gals whose fathers made their money in oil, or medicine, or electricity, or any other dodge, so long as they made it! And why shouldn’t you do the same as the Amurrican gals? You have money, I know--and a goodish lot, I fancy--” added the Baroness, with her cunning eyes fixed upon the girl as if to read her thoughts. “O! yes!” replied Harriet, “Mr. Trawler, my trustee, said it was too much for a young woman to have under her own control, but I don’t know anything about the value of money, never having had it to spend before. I am to have fifteen hundred pounds every year. Is that a good deal?” “Quite enough to settle you in life, my dear!” exclaimed the Baroness, who immediately thought what a good thing it would be if Miss Brandt could be persuaded to sink her capital in the boot trade, “and all under your own control too! You are a lucky young woman! I know ’alf-a-dozen lords,--not to say Princes--who would jump at you!” “Princes!” cried Harriet, unable to believe her ears. “Certainly! Not English ones of course, but German, which are quite as good after all, for a Prince is a Prince any day! There’s Prince Adalbert of Waxsquiemer, and Prince Harold of Muddlesheim, and Prince Loris of Taxelmein, and ever so many more, and they’re in and out of the Red ’Ouse, twenty times a day! But don’t you be in an ’urry! Don’t take the first that offers, Miss Brandt! Pick and choose! Flirt with whom you like and ’ave your fun, but wait and look about you a bit before you decide!”