She laughed a little maliciously. Truth to tell, not being quite sure
that her game was safely wired, and dreading this Amazonian Miss
Hunsden as a prospective rival, she was nothing loath to prejudice the
fastidious young baronet beforehand, even while seeming to praise her.

"I am surprised that you have not heard of her," she said. "Sir
Harcourt Helford and Mr. Cholmondeley actually fought a duel about her,
and it ended in her telling them to their faces they were a pair of
idiots, and flatly refusing both. 'The Hunsden' is the toast of the
country."

Sir Everard shuddered.

"From all such the gods deliver us! You honor Miss Hunsden with your
deepest interest, I think, Lady Louise?

"Yes, she is such an oddity. Her wandering life, I presume, accounts
for it; but she is altogether unlike any girl I ever know. I am
certain," with a little malicious glance, "she will be your style, Sir
Everard."

"And as I don't in the least know what my style is, perhaps you may be
right."

Lady Louise bit her lip--it was a rebuff, she fancied, for her
detraction. And then Lady Carteret gave that mysterious signal, and
the ladies rose and swept away in billows of silk to the drawing-room,
and the gentlemen had the talk to themselves "across the walnuts and
the wine."