"She is an old friend of mine, Lady Canterbridge."

"How fortunate! Then I can please you by giving you good news of her.
She is the coming sensation. They say she is very rich, but quite one of
the people, you know: in fact, she makes no scruples of telling you her
father was a blacksmith, I think, and takes the dear old man with her
everywhere. FitzHarry raves about her, and says her naivete is something
too delicious. She is regularly in with some of the best people already.
Lady Dungeness has taken her up, and Northforeland is only waiting for
your cousin's engagement to be able to go over decently. Shall I ask
her to Buckenthorpe?--come, now, as an apology for my rudeness to your
cousin?" She was very womanly now in spite of her high collar, her
straight back, and her tightly-fitting jacket, as she stood there
smiling. Suddenly, her smile faded; she drew her breath in quickly.

She had caught a glimpse of his usually thoughtful face and eyes, now
illuminated with some pleasant memory.

"Thank you," he said smilingly, yet with a certain hesitation, as
he thought of The Lookout and Araminta Eulalie Sharpe, and tried to
reconcile them with the lady before him. "I should like it very much."

"Then you have known Miss Sharpe a long time?" continued Lady
Canterbridge as they walked on.

"While we were at The Lookout she was our nearest neighbor."

"And I suppose your wife will consider it quite proper for you to
see her again at my house?" said Lady Canterbridge, with a return of
conventional levity.