not satisfied with staring.

He withdrew after his usual hearty meal, during which his talk of boys
and their monkey tricks, and what we can train them to, had been pleasant
generally, especially to Mrs. Lawrence. Aminta was carried back to the
minute early years at High Brent. A line or two of a smile touched her
cheek.

'Yes, my dear countess, that is the face I want for Lady de Culme
to-day,' said Mrs. Lawrence.' She likes a smiling face. Aunty--aunty
has always been good; she has never been prim. I was too much for her,
until I reflected that she was very old, and deserved to know the truth
before she left us; and so I went to her; and then she said she wished to
see the Countess of Ormont, because of her being my dearest friend. I
fancy she entertains an 'arriere' idea of proposing her flawless niece
Gracey, Marchioness of Fencaster, to present you. She 's quite equal to
the fatigue herself. You 'll rejoice in her anecdotes. People were
virtuous in past days: they counted their sinners. In those days, too,
as I have to understand, the men chivalrously bore the blame, though the
women were rightly punished. Now, alas! the initiative is with the
women, and men are not asked for chivalry. Hence it languishes. Lady
de Culme won't hear of the Queen of Blondes; has forbidden her these many
years!'

Lord Ormont, to whom the lady's prattle was addressed, kept his visage
moveless, except in slight jerks of the brows.

'What queen?'

'You insist upon renewing my old, old pangs of jealousy, my dear lord!