The three girls having disappeared, Isabella thought the occasion favorable for a few words upon another subject. "Do you like to have Paulie riding so often with Mr. Ash, Cousin Octavia? I can't help being distressed about it." "Don't be Mistering John Ash, I beg; no one in the world but you, Isabella, would dream of doing it--a great swooping creature like that--the horseman in 'Heliodorus.'" "You mean Raphael's fresco? Oh, Cousin Octavia, how can you think so? Raphael--such a religious painter, and John Ash, who looks so dissipated!" "Did I say he didn't look dissipated? I said he could ride. John Ash is one of the most dissipated-looking youths I have ever met," pursued Mrs. Preston, comfortably. "The clever sort, not the brutal." "And you don't mind Paulie's being with him?" "Pauline Euphemia Graham has been married, Pauline Euphemia Graham is a widow; it ill becomes those who have not had a tithe of her experience (though they may be _much_ older) to set themselves up as judges of her conduct." Mrs. Preston had a deep rich voice, and slow enunciation; her simplest sentences, therefore, often took on the tone of declamation, and when she held forth at any length, it was like a Gregorian chant. "Oh, I didn't mean to judge, I'm sure," said Isabella; "I only meant that it would be such a pity--such a bad match for dear Paulie in case she should be thinking of marrying again. Even if one were sure of John Ash--and certainly the reverse is the case--look at his mother! I am interested, naturally, as Paulie is my first cousin, you know." "Do you mean that your first cousin's becoming Mrs. John Ash might endanger your own matrimonial prospects?" "Oh dear no," said poor little Isabella, shrinking back to her embroidery. She was fifty, small, plain, extremely good. In her heart she wished that people would take the tone that Isabella had "never cared to marry." "Here is Pauline now, I think," said Mrs. Preston, as a figure appeared at the end of the hall. Isabella was afraid to add, "And going out to ride again!" But it was evident that Mrs. Graham intended to ride: she wore her habit. "I wish you were going, too," she said to Mrs. Preston, pausing in the doorway with her skirt uplifted. Her graceful figure in the closely fitting habit was a pleasant sight to see. "Thanks, my dear; I should enjoy going very much if I were a little more slender." "You are magnificent as you are," responded Pauline, admiringly. And in truth the old lady was very handsome, with her thick silver hair, fine eyes with heavy black eyebrows, and well-cut aquiline profile. Her straight back, noble shoulders, and beautiful hands took from her massive form the idea of unwieldiness.