itself with the singing of her little, fat, black kettle on the hob,
seemed absolute luxury to a tired, damp woman.

Mrs. Cupp and Jane Cupp were very kind and attentive to her. No one who
lived in the same house with her could have helped liking her. She gave
so little trouble, and was so expansively pleased by any attention, that
the Cupps,--who were sometimes rather bullied and snubbed by the
"professionals" who generally occupied their other rooms,--quite loved
her. Sometimes the "professionals," extremely smart ladies and gentlemen
who did turns at the balls or played small parts at theatres, were
irregular in their payments or went away leaving bills behind them; but
Miss Fox-Seton's payments were as regular as Saturday night, and, in
fact, there had been times when, luck being against her, Emily had gone
extremely hungry during a whole week rather than buy her lunches at the
ladies' tea-shops with the money that would pay her rent. In the honest
minds of the Cupps, she had become a sort of possession of which they
were proud. She seemed to bring into their dingy lodging-house a touch
of the great world,--that world whose people lived in Mayfair and had
country-houses where they entertained parties for the shooting and the
hunting, and in which also existed the maids and matrons who on cold
spring mornings sat, amid billows of satin and tulle and lace,
surrounded with nodding plumes, waiting, shivering, for hours in their
carriages that they might at last enter Buckingham Palace and be
admitted to the Drawing-room. Mrs. Cupp knew that Miss Fox-Seton was
"well connected;" she knew that she possessed an aunt with a title,
though her ladyship never took the slightest notice of her niece. Jane
Cupp took "Modern Society," and now and then had the pleasure of reading
aloud to her young man little incidents concerning some castle or manor
in which Miss Fox-Seton's aunt, Lady Malfry, was staying with earls and
special favorites of the Prince's. Jane also knew that Miss Fox-Seton