The past seemed entirely swept away and obliterated from Lucy when she found herself in Lady Randolph’s London house, inhabiting two rooms charmingly and daintily furnished, with a deft and respectful maid belonging to herself, at her special call, and everything that it was desirable a young lady of fortune should have. The allowance made for her was very large, so her father had willed, and her new guardian employed it liberally. Needless to say that Lady Randolph was not herself rich; but she was not greedy or grasping. She liked dearly the large additional income she had to spend, but she had no wish to make economies from it at Lucy’s cost. Economies, indeed, were not in Lady Randolph’s way. She liked a large liberal house. She liked the sense of a full purse into which she could put her hand without fear of the supply failing (who does not?). She liked the power of moving about as she pleased, of filling her house with visitors, and making herself the cheerful beneficent center of a society not badly chosen. She was willing to give her charge “every advantage,” and to spend the large income she brought with her entirely upon the life which they were to lead together. Old Trevor was shrewd, he knew what he was doing, and his choice carried out his intention fully. Lady Randolph was pleased to have a great heiress to bring out, and she was anxious to bring her out in the very best way. Her object on her own side was, no doubt, selfish, in so far that to live liberally was pleasant to her, and to spend largely a kind of necessity of her nature. But all this largeness and liberality, which were so pleasant to herself, were exactly what was wanted, according to her father’s plan, for Lucy, to whom Lady Randolph communicated the advantages procured by her money with all the lavish provision for her pleasure which a doting mother might have made. In all this there was a fine high-spirited honorableness about Lucy’s new guardian. She scorned to save a penny of the allowance. And we are bound to add that this course of procedure did not approve itself (what course ever does?) to Lady Randolph’s friends. While Lucy was being established in those luxurious yet simple rooms, which were good enough for a princess, yet so little _fine_, that Lucy’s simplicity had not yet found out how delicate and costly they were, Lady Randolph’s small coterie of advisers were censuring her warmly down-stairs.