"You made me!" she said, reproachfully, to the Dean. The Dean said another "Brava!" and gave another clap. Then, becoming aware of Lord Grosville's open mouth and eye, he sat up, caught his wife's expression, and came back to prose and the present. "My dear young lady," he began, "you have the most extraordinary talent--" when Lady Grosville advanced upon him. Standing before him, she majestically signalled to her husband across his small person. "William, kindly order Mrs. Wilson's carriage." Lord Grosville awoke from his stupor with a jerk, and did as he was told. Mrs. Wilson, the agent's timid wife, who was not at all aware that she had asked for her carriage, rose obediently. Then the mistress of the house turned to Lady Kitty. "You recite very well, Kitty," she said, with cold and stately emphasis, "but another time I will ask you to confine yourself to Racine and Corneille. In England we have to be very careful about French writers. There are, however, if I remember right, some fine passages in 'Athalie.'" Kitty said nothing. The Austrian attaché who had been following the little incident with the liveliest interest, retired to a close inspection of the china. But the Dean, whose temper was of the quick and chivalrous kind, was roused. "She recites wonderfully! And Victor Hugo is a classic, please, my lady--just as much as the rest of them. Ah, well, no doubt, no doubt, there might be things more suitable." And the old man came wavering down to earth, as the enthusiasm which Kitty had breathed into him escaped, like the gas from a balloon. "But, do you know, Lady Kitty "--he struck into a new subject with eagerness, partly to cover the girl, partly to silence Lady Grosville--"you reminded me all the time so remarkably--in your voice--certain inflections--of your sister--your step-sister, isn't it?--Lady Alice? You know, of course, she is close to you to-day--just the other side the park--with the Sowerbys?" The Dean's wife sprang to her feet in despair. In general it was to her a matter for fond complacency that her husband had no memory for gossip, and was in such matters as innocent and as dangerous as a child. But this was too much. At the same moment Ashe came quickly forward. "My sister?" said Kitty. "My sister?" She spoke low and uncertainly, her eyes fixed upon the Dean. He looked at her with a sudden odd sense of something unusual, then went on, still floundering: "We met her at St. Pancras on our way down. If I had only known we were to have had the pleasure of meeting you--Do you know, I think she is looking decidedly better?" His kindly expression as he rose expected a word of sisterly assent. Meanwhile even Lady Grosville was paralyzed, and the words with which she had meant to interpose failed on her lips. Kitty, too, rose, looking round for something, which she seemed to find in the face of William Ashe, for her eyes clung there.