ly
occurred to her. Lady Joan she described as not beautiful; certainly not
beautiful; nobody would consider her beautiful, many would indeed think
her quite the reverse; and yet she had a look, one particular look when
according to Lady Marney, she was more than beautiful. But she was very
clever, very indeed, something quite extraordinary.

"Accomplished?"

"Oh! far beyond that; I have heard even men say that no one knew so
much."

"A regular blue?"

"Oh! no; not at all a blue; not that kind of knowledge. But languages
and learned books; Arabic, and Hebrew, and old manuscripts. And then she
has an observatory, and was the first person who discovered the comet.
Dr Buckland swears by her; and she corresponds with Arago."

"And her sister, is she the same?"

"Lady Maud: she is very religious. I do not know her so well."

"Is she pretty?"

"Some people admire her very much."

"I never was at Mowbray. What sort of a place is it?"

"Oh! it is very grand," said Lady Marney; "but like all places in the
manufacturing districts, very disagreeable. You never have a clear sky.
Your toilette table is covered with blacks; the deer in the park seem
as if they had bathed in a lake of Indian ink; and as for the sheep, you
expect to see chimney-sweeps for the shepherds."

"And do you really mean to go on Thursday?" said Egremont: "I think we
had better put it off."

"We must go," said Lady Marney, with a sort of sigh, and shaking her
head.

"Let me speak to Marney."

"Oh! no. We must go. I am annoyed about this dear little Poinsett: she
has been to stay with me so very often, and she has only been here
three days. When she comes in again, I wish you would ask her to sing,
Charles."

Soon the dear little Poinsett was singing, much gratified by being
invited to the instrument by Mr Egremont, who for a few minutes hung
over her, and then evidently under the influence of her tones, walked up
and down the room, and only speaking to beg that she would continue her
charming performances. Lady Marney was engrossed with her embroidery;
her lord and the captain with their game.

And what was Egremont thinking of? Of Mowbray be you sure. And of Lady
Joan or Lady Maud? Not exactly. Mowbray was the name of the town to
which the strangers he had met with in the Abbey were bound. It was the
only piece of information that he had been able to obtain of them; and
that casually.

When the fair vision of the starlit arch, about to