The chosen few who had at first constituted her circle grew into many; but there was none amongst the many who had not some claim to distinction. If the door of the Hermitage had been freely opened to every comer, Mrs. Champernowne might have found it difficult to sustain the tone of distinction which she had so unconsciously acquired. But in shutting her door upon people whose acquaintance another woman in her position might have courted, the widow invested her receptions with a piquancy which fascinated the privileged ones who were free to come and go as they pleased. To be free of the Hermitage was _d'être de Marly_ over again; for, once admitted within those walls, all ceremony was done with. No invitation-cards ever issued from Georgina's fair hands. She was an inveterate tea-drinker; and to linger by her side as she dispensed fragile cups of egg-shell china that held about a table-spoonful, was to be carried back to the days of patch and hoop, and to be subjugated by the charms of a new Belinda--a Belinda of five-and-thirty years, well sounded, but the most bewildering of enchantresses nevertheless. In the evening Mrs. Champernowne was at home to her intimates, and from ten until twelve the little lane leading out of the Kensington Road was luminous with the lamps of broughams. "I reserve no particular evening for my intimates, for I know so few people," said the widow--she always made a strong point of her limited circle--"and I so rarely go out. People know they can find me whenever they choose to come, and that I like to see them come in and out of my rooms as they please." Placed on this easy footing, Mrs. Champernowne's friends found the Hermitage one of the most agreeable houses in London. The best music to be heard at the West-end was to be heard at Mrs. Champernowne's; the freshest photographs of new pictures, that had been the gems of the season in continental exhibitions; the last political pamphlet that had aroused the indignation of the Parisian police; the last comedy by Sardou or Augier, that had succeeded at the Française or Gymnase,--were to be found scattered on her table; and all the lions and lionesses of London roared their mildest roar for the pleasure of their accomplished hostess. Some delicate instinct of her own enabled her to discover nice people. She developed talents that had never been brought to light before. The ice of a reserved nature melted under her genial influence; the most afflicted of bashful men found courage in her presence. People who were utterly subjugated by her fascination sought in vain to define its nature, and were content at last to declare her the most charming of women. Her intimates were pestered by the supplications of outsiders, who wanted to penetrate the magic circle: but that circle was not to be entered easily.