the house) Lady Jane returned to the charge.

"You appear to feel some hesitation," she said. "Do you want a
reference?" She smiled satirically, and summoned her friend to her aid.
"Mr. Vanborough!"

Mr. Vanborough, stealing step by step nearer to the window--intent, come
what might of it, on keeping his wife out of the room--neither heeded
nor heard her. Lady Jane followed him, and tapped him briskly on the
shoulder with her parasol.

At that moment Mrs. Vanborough appeared on the garden side of the
window.

"Am I in the way?" she asked, addressing her husband, after one steady
look at Lady Jane. "This lady appears to be an old friend of yours."
There was a tone of sarcasm in that allusion to the parasol, which might
develop into a tone of jealousy at a moment's notice.

Lady Jane was not in the least disconcerted. She had her double
privilege of familiarity with the men whom she liked--her privilege as
a woman of high rank, and her privilege as a young widow. She bowed to
Mrs. Vanborough, with all the highly-finished politeness of the order to
which she belonged.

"The lady of the house, I presume?" she said, with a gracious smile.

Mrs. Vanborough returned the bow coldly--entered the room first--and
then answered, "Yes."