"Not a soul; I have wished every one good-night. I was rather tired, to tell the truth, and not inclined for talk. But of course I am always glad of a chat with you, Geraldine.--You may go, Parker; I can finish my hair myself." The maid retired, as quietly as some attendant spirit. Lady Laura took up a big ivory brush and began smoothing the long chestnut locks in a meditative way, waiting for her sister to speak. But Lady Geraldine seemed scarcely in the mood for lively conversation; her fingers were twisting themselves in and out upon the arm of her chair in a nervous way, and her face had a thoughtful, not to say moody, expression. Her sister watched her for some minutes silently. "What is the matter, Geraldine?" she inquired at last. "I can see there is something wrong." "There is very much that is wrong," the other answered with a kind of suppressed vehemence. "Upon my word, Laura, I believe it is your destiny to stand in my light at every stage of my life, or you would scarcely have happened to have planted that girl here just at this particular time." "What girl?" cried Lady Laura, amazed at this sudden accusation. "Clarissa Lovel." "Good gracious me, Geraldine! what has my poor Clarissa done to offend you?" "Your poor Clarissa has only set her cap at George Fairfax; and as she happens to be several years younger than I am, and I suppose a good deal prettier, she has thoroughly succeeded in distracting his attention--his regard, perhaps--from myself." Laura Armstrong dropped the hair-brush, in profound consternation. "My dear Geraldine, this is the merest jealous folly on your part. Clarissa is the very last girl in the world who would be guilty of such meanness as to try and attract another woman's lover. Besides, I am sure that George's attachment to yourself--" "Pray, don't preach about that, Laura!" her sister broke in impatiently. "I must be the best judge of his attachment; and you must be the very blindest of women, if you have not seen how your newest pet and _protegee_ has contrived to lure George to her side night after night, and to interest him by her pretty looks and juvenile airs and graces." "Why, I don't believe George spoke to Miss Lovel once this evening; he was playing chess with you from the moment he came to the drawing-room after dinner." "To-night was an exceptional case. Mr. Fairfax was evidently on duty. His manner all the evening was that of a man who has been consciously culpable, and is trying to atone for bad behaviour. And your favourite was wounded by his desertion--I could see that."