kwards and forwards, the index of nervousness; not down upon the jaw,
the sign of determination; but palpably upwards, in precisely the curve
adopted to represent mirth in the broad caricatures of schoolboys. Only
this element in her face was expressive of anything within the woman,
but it was unmistakable. It expressed humour subjective as well as
objective--which could survey the peculiarities of self in as whimsical
a light as those of other people.

This is not all of Mrs. Swancourt. She had held out to Elfride hands
whose fingers were literally stiff with rings, signis auroque rigentes,
like Helen's robe. These rows of rings were not worn in vanity
apparently. They were mostly antique and dull, though a few were the
reverse.

RIGHT HAND.

1st. Plainly set oval onyx, representing a devil's head. 2nd. Green
jasper intaglio, with red veins. 3rd. Entirely gold, bearing figure of
a hideous griffin. 4th. A sea-green monster diamond, with small diamonds
round it. 5th. Antique cornelian intaglio of dancing figure of a
satyr. 6th. An angular band chased with dragons' heads. 7th. A facetted
carbuncle accompanied by ten little twinkling emeralds; &c. &c.

LEFT HAND.

1st. A reddish-yellow toadstone. 2nd. A heavy ring enamelled in colours,
and bearing a jacynth. 3rd. An amethystine sapphire. 4th. A polished
ruby, surrounded by diamonds. 5th. The engraved ring of an abbess. 6th.
A gloomy intaglio; &c. &c.

Beyond this rather quaint array of stone and metal Mrs. Swancourt wore
no ornament whatever.

Elfride had been favourably impressed with Mrs. Troyton at their meeting
about two months earlier; but to be pleased with a woman as a momentary
acquaintance was different from being taken with her as a stepmother.
However, the suspension of feeling was but for a moment. Elfride decided
to like her still.

Mrs. Swancourt was a woman of the world as to knowledge, the reverse
as to action, as her marriage suggested. Elfride and the lady were soon
inextricably involved in conversation, and Mr. Swancourt left them to
themselves.

'And what do you find to do with yourself here?' Mrs. Swancourt said,
after a few remarks about the wedding. 'You ride, I know.'

'Yes, I ride. But not much, because papa doesn't like my going alone.'

'You must have somebody to look after you.'

'And I read, and write a little.'

'You should write a novel. The regular resource of people who don't go
enough into the world to live a novel i