She smiled again. “You acknowledge your faults with such a grace,” said she, “that we must needs forgive them. And now to show you how much you need forgiveness. Come, children,” she bade her cousins--for whose innocence she had made apology but a moment back. “Your arm, Harry,” she begged her brother-in-law. Sir Harry obeyed her readily, but without eagerness. In his heart he cursed his friend Caryll for having set her on to this. Mr. Caryll himself hung upon her other side, his eyes toward Lady Ostermore and Hortensia, who, whilst being observed by all, were being approached by few; and these few confined themselves to an exchange of greetings with her ladyship, which constituted a worse offence to Mistress Winthrop than had they stayed away. Suddenly, as if drawn by his ardent gaze, Hortensia's eyes moved at last from their forward fixity. Her glance met Mr. Caryll's across the intervening space. Instantly he swept off his hat, and bowed profoundly. The action drew attention to himself. All eyes were focussed upon him, and between many a pair there was a frown for one who should dare thus to run counter to the general attitude. But there was more to follow. The Lady Mary accepted Mr. Caryll's salutation of Hortensia as a signal. She led the way promptly, and the little band swept forward, straight for its goal, raked by the volleys from a thousand eyes, under which the Lady Mary already began to giggle excitedly. Thus they reached the countess, the countess standing very rigid in her amazement, to receive them. “I hope I see your ladyship well,” said Lady Mary. “I hope your ladyship does,” answered the countess tartly. Mistress Winthrop's eyes were lowered; her cheeks were scarlet. Her distress was plain, born of her doubt of the Lady Mary's purpose, and suspense as to what might follow. “I have not the honor of your ward's acquaintance, Lady Ostermore,” said Lady Mary, whilst the men were bowing, and her cousins curtseying to the countess and her companion collectively. The countess gasped, recovered, and eyed the speaker without any sign of affection. “My husband's ward, ma'am,” she corrected, in a voice that seemed to discourage further mention of Hortensia. “'Tis but a distinction,” put in Mr. Caryll suggestively. “Indeed, yes. Will not your ladyship present me?” The countess' malevolent eyes turned a moment upon Mr. Caryll, smiling demurely at Lady Mary's elbow. In his face--as well as in the four words he had uttered--she saw that here was work of his, and he gained nothing in her favor by it. Meanwhile there were no grounds--other than such as must have been wantonly offensive to the Lady Mary, and so not to be dreamed of--upon which to refuse her request. The countess braced herself, and with an ill grace performed the brief ceremony of presentation. Mistress Winthrop looked up an instant, then down again; it was a piteous, almost a pleading glance.