other. She must be something beyond this--a real Queen. To beauty and
wealth and charm she must add culture as well. She must be able to talk
to the prime minister upon his pet foibles, she must be able to quote
erudite passages from all the cleverest books of the day to the
brilliant politicians and diplomats and men of polished brain who made
up the society over which she wished to rule. And how was this to be
done? She thought it all out, and during her two years of living quietly
to obtain her divorce without a breath of scandal, she had hit upon and
put into practice an admirable plan.

She searched for and found a poor, very plain and highly cultivated
English gentlewoman, one who had been governess in a foreign Royal
family and was now trying to support an aged mother by giving private
lessons. Arabella Clinker was this treasure's name--Miss Arabella
Clinker, aged forty-two, and as ugly as it is possible for a thoroughly
nice woman to be.

Mrs. Cricklander made no mysteries about what she required Miss
Clinker's companionship for. She explained minutely that should any
special dinner-party or _rencontre_ with any great person be in view,
Miss Clinker must do a sort of preparatory cramming for her, as boys are
prepared for examinations.

"You must make it your business, when I give you the names of the people
I am to meet, to post me up in what they are likely to talk about. You
must read all the papers in the morning with the political speeches in
them, and then give me a quick _résumé_; if it should be any diplomat or
great artist or one of those delightful Englishmen who knows everything,
then you must suggest some suitable authors to speak of that they will
like, and I have quite enough sense myself to turn the conversation off