n masking, she said: 'You are right--he has no head. Easily
cajoled!'

Old Tom sat down in a chair, and laughed outright. Lady Jocelyn, in pity
for the poor lady, who always amused her, thought it time to put an end
to the scene.

'I hope your brother will come to us in about a week,' she said. 'May I
expect the favour of your company as well?'

The Countess felt her dignity to be far superior as she responded: 'Lady
Jocelyn, when next I enjoy the gratification of a visit to your
hospitable mansion, I must know that I am not at a disadvantage. I cannot
consent to be twice pulled down to my brother's level.'

Evan's heart was too full of its dim young happiness to speak, or care
for words. The cold elegance of the Countess's curtsey to Lady Jocelyn:
her ladyship's kindly pressure of his hand: Rose's stedfast look into his
eyes: Old Tom's smothered exclamation that he was not such a fool as he
seemed: all passed dream-like, and when he was left to the fury of the
Countess, he did not ask her to spare him, nor did he defend himself. She
bade adieu to him and their mutual relationship that very day. But her
star had not forsaken her yet. Chancing to peep into the shop, to intrust
a commission to Mr. John Raikes, who was there doing penance for his
career as a gentleman, she heard Old Tom and Andrew laughing, utterly
unlike bankrupts.

'Who 'd have thought the women such fools! and the Countess, too!'

This was Andrew's voice. He chuckled as one emancipated. The Countess had
a short interview with him (before she took her departure to join her
husband, under the roof of the Honourable Herbert Duffian), and Andrew
chuckled no more.

CHAPTER XLVII

A YEAR LATER, THE COUNTESS DE SALDAR DE SANCORVO TO HER SISTER CAROLINE

'Rome.
'Let the post-mark be my reply to your letter received through the
Consulate, and most courteously delivered with the Consul's compliments.
We shall yet have an ambassador at Rome--mark your Louisa's words. Yes,
dearest! I am here, body and spirit! I have at last found a haven, a
refuge, and let those who condemn me compare the peace of their spirits
with mine. You think that you have quite conquered the dreadfulness of
our origin. My love, I smile at you! I know it to be impossible for the
Protestant heresy to offer a shade of consolation. Earthly-born, it
rather encourages earthly distinctions. It is the sweet sovereign
Pontiff alone who gathers all in his arms,