e before the household. Yes,
occasionally (so gross was she!) she had to be fed with lies. Arabella
and Cornelia heard one another mouthing these dreadful things, with a
wretched feeling of contemptuous compassion. The trial was renewed daily,
and it was a task, almost a physical task, to hold the woman back from
London, till the hour of lunch came. If they kept her away from her
bonnet till then they were safe.

At this meal they had to drink champagne with her. Diplomatic Wilfrid had
issued the order, with the object, first, of dazzling her vision; and
secondly, to set the wheels of her brain in swift motion. The effect was
marvellous; and, had it not been for her determination never to drink
alone, the miserable ladies might have applauded it. Adela, on the rare
days when she was fortunate enough to reach Brookfield in time for
dinner, was surprised to hear her sisters exclaim, "Oh, the hatefulness
of that champagne!" She enjoyed it extremely. She, poor thing, had again
to go through a round of cabs and confectioners' shops in London. "If
they had said, 'Oh, the hatefulness of those buns and cold chickens!'"
she thought to herself. Not objecting to champagne at lunch with any
particular vehemence, she was the less unwilling to tell her sisters what
she had to do for Wilfrid daily.

"Three times a week I go to see Emilia at Lady Gosstre's town-house. Mr.
Powys has gone to Italy, and Miss Ford remains, looking, if I can read
her, such a temper. On the other days I am taken by Wilfrid to the
arcades, or we hire a brougham to drive round the park,--for nothing but
the chance of seeing that girl an instant. Don't tell me it's to meet
Lady Charlotte! That lovely and obliging person it is certainly not my
duty to undeceive. She's now at Stornley, and speaks of our affairs to
everybody, I dare say. Twice a week Wilfrid--oh! quite casually!--calls
on Miss Ford, and is gratified, I suppose; for this is the
picture:--There sits Emilia, one finger in her cheek, and the thumb under
her chin, and she keeps looking down so. Opposite is Miss Ford, doing
some work--making lint for patriots, probably. Then Wilfrid, addressing
commonplaces to her; and then Emilia's father--a personage, I assure you!
up against the window, with a violin. I feel a bitter edge on my teeth
still! What do you think he does to please his daughter for one while
hour! He draws his fingers--does nothing else; she won't let him; she
won't hear a tune-up the str