face were lit with a flush of hope. She had laboured
through the heats, and had quarried iron
rocks, and had found what had repaid her. She
hurried at once to secure the young lord. She took
him captive, wisely and warily, on the spot.
"I am so glad," she whispered to him. " This is a
happy moment for me. The happiest moment of
my life." Had she been at all familiar with Holy
Writ, she would have quoted Nunc dimittis. And
then she led him to this person and to that, and
exhibited her prize. "Lady Tozer," she said,
"you know Lord Spendlesham, Blanche and he
have been settling something together. Most
suitable in every respect," she whispered. My
lord, still dewy— about as rich and thick in his
voice as curaçoa— and swinging back and forward
to the banister, as if preparing for a
spring, said something about a " sharmigirl."
Lady Laura kept to him fast, and went through
the rooms, dragging him at her car, so that presently
everybody, including some safe business-like
friends, became acquainted with the joyful
news that young Spendlesham had proposed for
that second Fermor girl.

Thus inspired, Lady Laura toiled up the
heights with renewed energy. Was she at all
mortal, or did she find sleep or support from
such things as breakfasts and dinners, from
meats or wines? Night and day it was all one;
she worked and toiled with head, heart, and
hands. She should have been a general in the
field. She found everything; she thought of
everything; for Blanche and her sister were poor
helpless creatures. Yet at this time the tradesmen
and tradeswomen were coming thick and
fast to the door; were pressing and loud voiced;
and, once in the hall, refused to depart without
audience. The job-master was heard below,
turbulent and insolent. Lady Laura above in
her bedroom— where a "cheap Dorcas woman;"
was at work under superintendence, and where
her own worn fingers laboured at tulle and silk
— came down courageously and calmly to meet
these rude Troopers. The job-master she
worsted easily; with him she took the high tone.
She whipped him across the face with "My
daughter's marriage with Lord Spendlesham."
*' His lordship," she said, " will be mounting
his establishment when he returns from his
wedding tour, and I should like to have mentioned
your name to him. He will want hunters
and carriage-horses, and all sorts of things.
But now you have been so troublesome to me,
that really," said Lady Laura, smiling, " I don't
see how I can reasonably mention you to him."
The job-master was repentant in a moment.
"You see 'ow it is my lady," he said, " we as keeps
'orses find it very 'ard to make the thing go."
And then he said it was of no consequence, and
retired.

With Madame Gay her encounter was of a
different nature. That shrill and feline milliner
had taken off her gloves, which every Frenchwoman
wears to hide claws, and had long
since been "spitting" and screaming at her
debtor. She had dared to send an " Attorney's
letter" to Lady Laura. Lady Laura drove to
her boldly in the job-master's carriage, and
courageously strode in to her den. " Where is
madame?" she said to the neat Phyllises who
were scattered among the bonnets and dummies.
"Send her here, please."

Madame came with the feline tusks displayed,
and the whiskers almost visible. "I have received
this," said Lady Laura, showing the letter.
" I shall take no notice of it whatever. You
have injured yourself more than you fancy. My
daughter shall not get so much as a bonnet for
her trousseau from you."

"I do not care," said the milliner, " but you
sall pay me all de same."

"At my convenience," said Lady Laura. " I
have it here," she said, showing some notes,
"but you shall wait. I shall take care that my
daughter, who is to marry Lord Spendlesham,
shall not deal with you. I have shown Lady John
Villiers this, and she says it is outrageous. If I
was to tell this generally, I could ruin you."

Lady Laura drove away— in the job-master's
carriage— again victorious. The milliner made a
degrading submission. She found money, too,
did Lady Laura, just as skilful spendthrifts find
money, and perhaps in the same way. She may
have been to a dirty snuffy Jew in a dirty snuffy
back parlour, and have raised it on a bill, as well
as the clever spendthrift. She may have taken
her grandmother's heavy silver teapot and sugar
bowl under her cloak, and gone down a remote
street in the city, to a silversmith where such
things were bought, and where she would have
made a good bargain and got more money than
another man or woman. There were old diamond
earrings, too, which her father had given her
when she was a girl, centuries ago, when
there were such things for her in the world as
affections, and sympathy, and associations, and
hearts, before the frosts of fashion had set in
and killed every plant and flower. When she
took these trophies out of their worn velvet-lined
case, something like a faint breath of
warmth and softness seemed to come out with
them. She handled them with reverence. These,
it was well remembered, disappeared about this
time.

Workmen were in the house, busy in the drawing-rooms
constructing a stage, under Mr. Romaine's
superintendence. Fine scenery was being
painted, musicians were secured to play suitable
music, and the light green vans of Deval, the
well-known monopolist pastrycook, had been
seen occasionally at the door. These splendid
auxiliaries happily required no ready money.
The coming alliance, belled about in the fashionable
papers, was accepted as a note of hand,
and readily discounted. Madame Gay, deeply
repentant, was permitted, at her own urgent
entreaty, to prepare a gorgeous fancy dress
of richest texture and materials, to set off
Blanche's charms. The house was in possession
of visitors and strangers all day long. It was