“But where is she whose diamond eyes Golconda’s purest gems outshine? Whose roseate lips of Eden breathed, Say, where is she, the beauteous one?” _Thomas Dunn English._ The gentlemen then went to the drawing-room, whither Lady Morelle, in full dinner dress, had already preceded them. And here Lord Montressor learned that other guests were then staying at the house—a fact that he never could have supposed from the gloomy aspect of the place. However they were soon joined by her grace, the old Duchess of Graveminster, with her grand-daughters, the ladies Jane and Mary Chappelle, and oh! “tell it not in Gath! publish it not in the gates of Askelon!”—by Lord and Lady Monson, Mr. and Mrs. Howard Kennaugh, and Mrs. Bute Trevor!—ladies who, in Lady Bannerman’s boudoir, had been the most unsparing in their denunciation of the beautiful Estelle, the only daughter of that house, whose hospitality they now sought! Does the reader wonder at this? No, he does not! He or she knows this double dealing to be the way of too many people in this world of ours, and will not therefore wonder even when I affirm that these were almost self-invited guests, a party made up to please themselves, and through the medium of the Duchess of Graveminster, all but forced upon the hospitalities of Hyde Hall. For in truth, neither the baronet nor his lady were in the slightest degree disposed to entertain a Christmas party at their sorrowful house. Late in the afternoon Lord Montressor’s valet came in a post-chaise from the “Morelle Arms,” with his master’s portmanteau and dressing-case—conveniences that were growing imminently necessary; for in truth his lordship’s toilet, by reason of his hasty journey, was in a very unlordly plight. A little latter in the evening Lord Dazzleright arrived by the carriage that had been sent for him, and just in time to dress for dinner. That Christmas feast was served by candle-light at six o’clock.