Essex, which was let), the connection was a "smarter" one than a
child of hers could have aspired to form. In spite of the social
bravery of her novels she took a very humble and dingy view of
herself, so that of all her productions "my daughter Lady Luard" was
quite the one she was proudest of. That personage thought her mother
very vulgar and was distressed and perplexed by the occasional
license of her pen, but had a complicated attitude in regard to this
indirect connection with literature. So far as it was lucrative her
ladyship approved of it, and could compound with the inferiority of
the pursuit by doing practical justice to some of its advantages. I
had reason to know (my reason was simply that poor Mrs. Stormer told
me) that she suffered the inky fingers to press an occasional bank-
note into her palm. On the other hand she deplored the "peculiar
style" to which Greville Fane had devoted herself, and wondered where
an author who had the convenience of so lady-like a daughter could
have picked up such views about the best society. "She might know
better, with Leolin and me," Lady Luard had been known to remark; but
it appeared that some of Greville Fane's superstitions were
incurable. She didn't live in Lady Luard's society, and the best was
not good enough for her--she must make it still better.

I could see that this necessity grew upon her during the years she
spent abroad, when I had glimpses of her in the shifting sojourns
that lay in the path of my annual ramble. She betook herself from
Germany to Switzerland and from Switzerland to Italy; she favoured
cheap places and set up her desk in the smaller capitals. I took a
look at her whenever I could, and I always asked how Leolin was
getting on. She gave me beautiful accounts of him, and whenever it
was possible the boy was produced for my edification. I had entered
from the first into the joke of his career--I pretended to regard him