“But, darling mother, I was far away from my true nature, so do not blame yourself alone; you see, necessity made me think differently.” “But then, necessity ought to have acted in the same way upon me,” replied Lady Carey. “Still, I cannot see as you do.” “Because you are stiffening yourself against the inevitable; you are not so blind as not to be able to see. Oh! mother, if you knew how I love you, how I want you to be happy!” “Child, you are all I have in the world, for, as I have said before, I have suffered. You have never known this, my child, for I hid it from everyone; but all that you have just said has brought back to my mind past scenes which I had determined to forget for ever. My girlhood! my marriage! your words brought all back to me so distinctly. But what is it that makes you so happy, so keenly interested in all your surroundings? I should like to know what it is, for I have not become an idiot, and I might yet learn.” “Love, love has been the teacher! Oh! mother, I know you have always loved me, but you allowed worldly barriers to divide us. Let yourself go, do not be guided by your stubborn prejudices, and judge our present world from the standard of our past Society.” “Ah! my poor child, I know of no other standard but that of a well-bred woman of the world; still, to show you that I have no silly prejudice, and that I can turn my mind to anything, I shall try to let myself go; but mind you, it will be only out of sheer _ennui_, not from any other motive. I shall enter into all your plans; it will at least be something to do.” Eva stood up and, taking both her mother’s hands, lifted her from her chair; the two women laughed joyously, and putting their arms round one another’s necks, they left the room to go down to luncheon. CHAPTER XV “Well, my dear Gwen!”—Mrs Archibald entered the library at Selby House, followed by the Earl of Somerville—“I never thought I should live to see your husband act as his own footman!” “Dear Alicia”—Lady Somerville kissed the newcomer and led her to a marble lounge—“why not be one’s own footman? We are our own policemen, and I do not believe the streets’ safety has in any way suffered from it.” “That’s quite different, dear Gwen. Ah! how do, Mrs Sinclair? I had not seen you. How shaded you keep your rooms; it is quite delightful, and so cool, too.” “Do you know, Mrs Archibald, that we are thinking of introducing an innovation in our households?” This was Lord Somerville. “We are going to do away with locks, keys, and bolts.” “My dear Lionel, what on earth are you saying?” exclaimed Mrs Archibald, raising herself suddenly on her couch. “What about these dreadful people who intrude, beg, or—steal?” “Let them go out again,” replied Gwen merrily. “I do not think you could find any beggars or thieves at the present moment, for there is nothing to steal, but what we all should feel glad to give.”