“Then why are those two emeralds sparkling so, may one ask?” “They are sparkling with conscious virtue,” I said, demurely. “You have quarrelled with Mr. Carruthers. Go away, Welby! Stupid woman, can’t you see it catches my nose?” Welby retired meekly (after she is cross Lady Ver sends Welby to the theatre--Welby adores her). “Evangeline, how dare you! I see it all. I gathered bits from Robert. You have quarrelled with the very man you must marry!” “What does Lord Robert know about me?” I said. That made me angry. “Nothing; he only said Mr. Carruthers admired you at Branches.” “Oh!” “He is too attractive, Christopher! he is one of the ‘married women’s pets,’ as Ada Fairfax says, and has never spoken to a girl before. You ought to be grateful we have let him look at you!--minx!--instead of quarrelling, as I can see you have.” She rippled with laughter, while she pretended to scold me. “Surely I may be allowed that chastened diversion,” I said, “I can’t go to theatres!” “Tell me about it,” she commanded, tapping her foot. But early in Mrs. Carruthers’ days, I learnt that one is wiser when one keeps one’s own affairs to oneself--so I fenced a little, and laughed, and we went out to drive finally, without her being any the wiser. Going into the Park, we came upon a troop of the 3rd Life Guards, who had been escorting the King to open something, and there rode Lord Robert in his beautiful clothes, and a floating plume--he did look so lovely--and _my_ heart suddenly began to beat; I could feel it, and was ashamed, and it did not console me greatly to reflect that the emotion caused by a uniform is not confined to nursemaids. Of course, it must have been the uniform, and the black horse--Lord Robert is nothing to me. But I hate to think that mamma’s mother having been nobody, I should have inherited these common instincts. 300, PARK STREET, _Thursday, November 24th._ _Evening_. LADY MERRENDEN is so nice--one of those kind faces that even a tight fringe in a net does not spoil. She is tall and graceful, past fifty perhaps, and has an expression of Lord Robert about the eyes. At luncheon she was sweet to me at once, and did not look as if she thought I must be bad just because I have red hair, like elderly ladies do generally. I felt I wanted to be good and nice directly. She did not allude to my desolate position, or say anything without tact, but she asked me to lunch, as if I had been a queen, and would honour her by accepting. For some reason I could see Lady Ver did not wish me to go, she made all sorts of excuses about wanting me herself, but also, for some reason, Lady Merrenden was determined I should, and finally settled it should be on Saturday, when Lady Ver is going down to Northumberland to her father’s, and I am going--where? Alas, as yet I know not.