At this she stopped short and looked at him; then she asked: “Whom do you mean—a noble lady?” “I suppose there’s no harm saying. Lady Aurora Langrish.” “I don’t know her. Is she nice?” “I like her ever so much.” “Is she pretty, clever?” “She isn’t pretty, but she’s very uncommon,” said Hyacinth. “How did you make her acquaintance?” As he hesitated she went on: “Did you bind some books for her?” “No. I met her in a place called Audley Court.” “Where’s that?” “In Camberwell.” “And who lives there?” “A young woman I was calling on, who’s bedridden.” “And the lady you speak of—what do you call her, Lady Lydia Languish?—goes to see her?” “Yes, very often.” The Princess, with her eyes on him, had a pause. “Will you take me there?” “With great pleasure. The young woman I speak of is the sister of the man—the one who works for a big firm of wholesale chemists—that you’ll perhaps remember that I mentioned to you.” “Yes, I remember. It must be one of the first places we go to. I’m sorry, you know,” the Princess added, walking on. Hyacinth asked what she might be sorry for, but she took no notice of his question, only soon saying: “Perhaps she goes to see _him_.” “Goes to see whom?” “The young chemist—the brother.” She said this very seriously. “Perhaps she does,” Hyacinth returned, laughing. “But she’s a fine sort of woman.” The Princess repeated that she was sorry, and he again wanted to know for what—for Lady Aurora’s being of that sort? To which she replied: “No; I mean for my not being the first—what is it you call them?—noble lady you’ve encountered.” “I don’t see what difference that makes. You needn’t be afraid you don’t make an impression on me.” “I wasn’t thinking of that. I was thinking you might be less fresh than I first thought.” “Of course I don’t know what you first thought,” Hyacinth smiled. “No; how should you?” the Princess strangely sighed. XXIII He was in the library after luncheon when word was brought him that the carriage was at the door for their drive; and when he entered the hall he found Madame Grandoni bonneted and cloaked and awaiting the descent of their friend. “You see I go with you. I’m always there,” she remarked jovially. “The Princess has me with her to take care of her, and this is how I do it. Besides, I never miss my drive.” “You’re different from me; this will be the first I’ve ever had in my life.” He could establish that distinction without bitterness, because he was too pleased with his prospect to believe the old lady’s presence could spoil it. He had nothing to say to the Princess that she mightn’t hear. He didn’t dislike her for coming even after she had said to him in answer to his own announcement, speaking rather more sententiously than her wont: “It doesn’t surprise me that you’ve not spent your life in carriages. They’ve nothing to do with your trade.” “Fortunately not,” he answered. “I should have made a ridiculous coachman.”