who was
trying to make herself useful, stretched out her hand for the kettle,
when Lady Delawarr's voice said behind her, "My dear Mrs Phoebe, you
may be relieved of that task. Mr Osmund Derwent--Mrs Phoebe Latrobe.
Mrs Latrobe--Mr Derwent."

There was one advantage, now lost, in this double introduction; if the
name were not distinctly heard in the first instance, it might be caught
in the second.

Phoebe looked up, and saw a rather good-looking young man, whose good
looks, however, lay more in a pleasant expression than in any special
beauty of feature. A little shy, yet without being awkward; and a
little grave and silent, but not at all morose, he was one with whom
Phoebe felt readily at home. His shyness, which arose from diffidence,
not pride, wore off when the first strangeness was over. It was evident
that Lady Delawarr had given him, as she had said, a hint to wait on
Phoebe.

The peculiarity of Lady Delawarr's conduct rather puzzled Phoebe. At
times she was particularly gracious, whilst at others she utterly
neglected her. Simple, unworldly Phoebe did not guess that while Rhoda
Peveril and Phoebe Latrobe were of no consequence in the eyes of her
hostess, the future possessor of White-Ladies was of very much. Lady
Delawarr never felt quite certain who that was to be. She expected it
to be Rhoda; yet at times the conviction smote her that, after all,
there was no certainty that it might not be Phoebe. Madam was
impulsive; she had already surprised people by taking up with Phoebe at
all; and Rhoda might displease her. In consequence of these
reflections, though Phoebe was generally left unnoticed, yet
occasionally Lady Delawarr warmed into affability, and cultivated the
girl who might, after all, come to be the heiress of Madam's untold
wealth. For Lady Delawarr's mind was essentially of the earth, earthy;
gold had for her a value far beyond goodness, and pleasantness of
disposition or purity of mind were not for a moment to be set in
comparison with a suite of pearls.

Mr Derwent took upon himself the responsibility of the kettle, and
chatted pleasantly enough with Phoebe, to whom the other damsels were
only too glad to leave all trouble. He walked home with her, insisting
with playful persistence upon carrying her scarf and the little basket
which she had brought for wild flowers; talked to her about his mother
and sisters, his own future prospects as a younger son who must make his
way in the