to starve to death. Alix and Hilda and Millicent and Eve and I will be
starved, quite slowly, for the want of the things that make girls' lives
bearable when they have been born in a certain class. And even if the
most splendid thing happened in three or four years, it would be too
late for us four--almost too late for Eve. If you are out of London, of
course you are forgotten. People can't help forgetting. Why shouldn't
they, when there are such crowds of new girls every year?"

Emily Fox-Seton was sweet. She was quite sure that they would not be
obliged to go to Castle Clare. Without being indelicate, she was really
able to bring hope to the fore. She said a good deal of the black gauze
dress and the lovely effect of the silver butterflies.

"I suppose it was the butterflies which made Lord Walderhurst say
'Psyche! Psyche!' when he first saw you," she added, _en passant_.

"Did he say that?" And immediately Lady Agatha looked as if she had not
intended to say the words.

"Yes," answered Emily, hurrying on with a casual air which had a good
deal of tact in it. "And black makes you so wonderfully fair and aërial.
You scarcely look quite real in it; you might float away. But you must
go to sleep now."

Lady Agatha went with her to the door of the room to bid her good-night.
Her eyes looked like those of a child who might presently cry a little.
"Oh, Miss Fox-Seton," she said, in a very young voice, "you are so
kind!"