by whom it was never intended to be seen; the _dessoux_des_cartes_ can
seldom be either safely or satisfactorily shown on paper, so give me my
embroidery-frame, I never can tell well without having something to do with
my hands."

And as Helen set the embroidery-frame, Lady Davenant searched for some
skeins of silk and silk winders.

"Take these, my dear, and wind this silk for me, for I must have my hearer
comfortably established, not like the agonised listener in the '_World_'
leaning against a table, with the corner running into him all the time."




CHAPTER IV.


"I must go back," continued Lady Davenant, "quite to the dark ages, the
time when I knew nothing of my daughter's character but by the accidental
lights which you afforded me. I will take up my story before the
reformation, in the middle ages, when you and your dear uncle left us
at Florence; about two years ago, when Cecilia was in the height of her
conquests, about the time when a certain Colonel D'Aubiguy flourished, you
remember him?"

Helen answered "Yes," in rather a constrained voice, which caused Lady
Davenant to look up, and on seeing that look of inquiry, Helen coloured,
though she would have given the world not to be so foolish. The affair was
Cecilia's, and Helen only wished not to have it recurred to, and yet