he neither felt nor professed affection, was to
him, as it would be to most Italians, completely
inconceivable. He therefore chattered on with
perfect good humour about his wife, and his
baby, and his pupils, and his prospects, and his
wife's cousin, Miss Bell, who was so clever and
so good, and so much beloved by them all. And
after Lady Popham had given him all the necessary
instructions about the arrangement of the
forthcoming concert, she proceeded to sound him
a little as to his knowledge of Alfred Trescott's
private character. But here she found herself
suddenly baffled. The vivacious little man lost
no particle of his vivacity, no sparkle from his
eye, no brightness from his smile, but one might
as well have attempted to grasp a will-o'-the-
wisp as to get at his real opinion of the young
fiddler. And yet Carlo Bensa could not be said
to be a guileful man. He was good hearted
and well intentioned. But to his mind and
conscience the case was clear: "miladi" had
taken a great fancy to the handsome Alfredo.
Benissimo! She was a great lady, and could
afford to indulge her caprices. Carlo Bensa
might indirectly be benefited by "miladi's"
patronage of this unknown artist. Benissimo
again! He (Carlo) would do his best and earn
his money honestly; but that he was to imperil
his place in "miladi's" good graces, and risk
losing a good engagement for the sake of
expressing his candid opinion that Alfred Trescott
was a selfish, idle, dissipated young rascal,
incomplete as an artist, and hateful as a man —
che! che! Was he a fool, or an Englishman,
that he should do this thing? But about "Miss
Bell," there was no such feeling. Of her he
could talk heartily and frankly; and when Miss
O'Brien, alleging as an excuse her family
connexion with some very old and intimate friends
of Miss Bell's at Hammerham, proposed to do
herself the pleasure of calling on that young
lady, Carlo Bensa undertook to say that his
wife's cousin would feel much pleased and
flattered by such a visit.

It was arranged between Lady Popham and
Geraldine that the latter should avail herself of
the opportunity of her morning ride — which
she was accustomed to take at a quiet early
hour, attended only by an old servant – to call
upon Miss Bell. To her Aunt Dawson Miss
O'Brien said very little about the proposed visit.
That frigid lady shook her head, and shut her
lips closely, when Geraldine told her she was
going to see "Augusta's old friend and school-
fellow."

"She is no longer a friend of my daughter-in-
law, Geraldine," said Mrs. Dawson. "I must
say that I thought Augusta expressed herself
very properly about the young person that day
at Hammerham."

"/ did not think so, Aunt Dawson; but that's
no matter. Lady Popham sees no objection to
my going to call on this young lady."

Geraldine was quite aware that Mrs. Dawson
would not put herself in open opposition to any
proceeding that Lady Popham might choose to
approve of. It was her duty, Mrs. Dawson told
herself, and told other people, to keep
Geraldine's rich godmother in as good humour as
might be.

On the morning of the day on which Clement
Charlewood had had the conversation with
Penelope recorded in my last chapter, and had
also visited Mrs. Saxelby at Hazelhurst, Miss
O'Brien, followed by her old groom, rode quietly
into Kelly's-square, where Mrs. Walton lived.
Carlo Bensa had prepared Mabel for the visit.
It was impossible to decline to see Miss O'Brien,
even had there been time to do so; but Mabel
would have given much to avoid receiving
her.

Aunt Mary and Uncle John, quite
unconscious of this feeling on their niece's part, were
much pleased by the kind message that Bensa
had brought, and by his report of the interest
Lady Popham and Miss O'Brien had shown in
Mabel.

"I think it very nice, indeed, of the young
lady," said Mrs. Walton, "and a very becoming
attention to so old and intimate a friend of the
family that her cousin has married into. I think
Miss O'Brien's polite behaviour puts to shame
Mr. Walter Charlewood altogether. He has
never taken any notice of you, Mabel dear,
since he has been in Dublin. And you on such
intimate terms with his family, almost like one
of themselves!"

For Mrs. Walton had learned much about the
Charlewoods, and about Mabel's intimacy at
Bramley Manor, from Alfred Trescott. And
though poor Mabel sometimes writhed under
her aunt's speeches on the subject, she could
not affect to deny the facts of the case. All she
could do was to assure Aunt Mary that her
going on the stage had put a stop to all familiar
intercourse between herself and the rich,
prosperous Hammerham magnates.

"I don't see why it should, at all," said
Aunt Mary, stoutly. But then John Earnshaw
had patted his wife's hand, and reminded her,
smilingly, of the old lady in the Orkney Islands,
who had found it necessary to renounce her
third cousin, whom she had never seen, in
consequence of his marriage with an actress.

The clatter of horses' hoofs in the square
brought Janet to the window.

"Here is your visitor, Mabel," she said.
"Jack, tell Catty to show the lady into the
little parlour, there's a good boy. She's a fine,
well-made girl, father, in a dark-blue habit, and
riding a very pretty bay horse. The groom is
quite an old man, and, as far as I can tell,
better mounted than his mistress."

Mabel rose slowly and reluctantly, laying
down a book from which she was studying.
She was dressed with scrupulous neatness, and
her rich dark hair was bound up in a multitude
of shining plaits at the back of her head, but
her gown was of very cheap and somewhat worn
brown stuff.

"Why didn't you put on your black silk,
Mabel?" said Aunt Mary, solicitously regarding
her.

"It doesn't matter, dear auntie."