hear, but
in reality (as all who knew her could see) with the object of being a
rival representative of her sex in this illustrious rare encounter of
divine intelligences. "You are anxious to know?" said Arabella,
hesitatingly.

"To know, dear?" echoed Laura.

"There was, I presumed, something you did not hear." Arabella was half
ashamed of the rudeness to which her antagonism to Laura's vulgarity
forced her.

"Oh! I hear everything," Laura assured her.

"Indeed!" said Arabella. "By the way, who conducts you?" (Laura was on
Edward Burley's arm.) "Oh! will you go to"--such and such an end of the
table. "And if, Lady Gosstre, I may beg of you to do me the service to go
there also," was added aloud; and lower, but quite audibly, "Mr. Pericles
will have music, so there can be no talking." This, with the soupcon of a
demi-shrug; "You will not suffer much" being implied. Laura said to
herself, "I am not a fool." A moment after, Arabella was admitting in her
own mind, as well as Fine Shades could interpret it, that she was. On
entering the dining-hall, she beheld two figures seated at the point
whither Laura was led by her partner. These were Mrs. Chump and Mr. Pole,
with champagne glasses in their hands. Arabella was pushed on by the
inexorable crowd of hungry people behind.

CHAPTER XXXII

Despite the pouring in of the flood of guests about the tables, Mrs.
Chump and Mr. Pole sat apparently unconcerned in their places, and, as if
to show their absolute indifference to observation and opinion, went
through the ceremony of drinking to one another, upon which they nodded
and chuckled: a suspicious eye had the option of divining that they used
the shelter of the table cloth for an interchange of squeezes. This would
have been further strengthened by Mrs. Chump's arresting exclamation,
"Pole! Company!" Mr. Pole looked up. He recognized Lady Gosstre, and made
an attempt, in his usual brisk style, to salute her. Mrs. Champ drew him
back. "Nothin' but his legs, my lady," she whispered. "There's nothin'
sets 'm up like champagne, my dears!" she called out to the Three of
Brookfield.

Those ladies were now in the hall, gazing, as mildly as humanity would
allow, at their common destiny, thus startlingly displayed. There was no
doubt in the bosom of either one of them that exposure was to follow this
prelude. Mental resignation was not even demanded of them--merely
physical. They did not seek comfort in an interchange of