"No such thing, dear Grandmother. I have heard no word to-day but dear Prue this; sweet Lady Prue that. Her grace kissed me on the cheek and cried out how pleasant it was, for once, to be able to kiss a face fresh from nature, without having to pick out a spot where the paint and powder were not thick enough to poison one. And I’m not surprised, for half the women there were plastered so thick, ’twas like a frescoed wall, and one looked to see it crack when they smiled. The duchess was not much better herself; but she was all smiles and affability, and all my intimate enemies took the cue and overwhelmed me with flatteries, and Lord Ripworth lisped out, ’Gad, Viscountess, nothing happier than your return has occurred in three months. We have been so dull, that we have taken to religion as a diversion; now your ladyship has come back to court, we shall, at least, have something to talk about." "The varlet! His mother was a chambermaid, and if people did not talk about her, it was because anything that could be said was too gross for utterance. I trust you set him down thoroughly." "Oh! no; I was bent on showing how amiable I had grown in the country. I only remarked that whatever he might talk about, I had never heard him accused of saying anything of consequence. There was a large party to dinner, and I heard all the gossip. First, Lady Beachcombe has presented her spouse with a son and heir." "’Tis your own fault, Prudence, that such an event is naught but gossip to you," said Lady Drumloch severely. "Oh! la, la! no one can accuse me of an envious disposition," laughed Prue. "Lady Beachcombe is welcome to all the honors of her position. I would not have changed places with her this afternoon for a dukedom, to say nothing of the privilege of nursing Lord Beachcombe’s heir." "Perhaps ’tis all for the best," the old lady conceded. "The present earl is a turn-coat, like his father, who came of a loyal stock, and was so devoted to the throne that he offered his allegiance to every successive usurper of it. I would rather see you married to an honorable Jacobite, who could use your influence at court for the cause of King James the Third." "The De Cliffes are all _mauvais sujets_, are they not?" queried Margaret innocently. "No, child, there have been De Cliffes as loyal as the Drumlochs and Wynnes; De Cliffes who were worthy to aspire to the hand of a woman whose forefathers laid down their lives for Charles the Martyr. Unfortunately, of late generations, the scum has risen to the top in more families than the Beachcombes." "Well, dear Grannie, as you think so ill of Lord Beachcombe, ’tis as well, perhaps, that circumstances prevented my marrying him, and left me free for at least one more season to enjoy life," said Prue; "and truly, never had I better reason to value my freedom than to-day."