Lady Gosstre, as she was being conducted to her carriage, had pronounced
aloud that Emilia was decidedly worth hearing.

"She's better worth knowing," said Tracy Runningbrook. "I see you are
all bent on spoiling her. If you were to sit and talk with her, you
would perceive that she's meant for more than to make a machine of her
throat. What a throat it is! She has the most comical notion of things.
I fancy I'm looking at the budding of my own brain. She's a born artist,
but I'm afraid everybody's conspiring to ruin her."

"Surely," said Adela, "we shall not do that, if we encourage her in her
Art."

"He means another kind of art," said Lady Gosstre. "The term 'artist,'
applied to our sex, signifies 'Frenchwoman' with him. He does not allow
us to be anything but women. As artists then we are largely privileged,
I assure you."

"Are we placed under a professor to learn the art?" Adela inquired,
pleased with the subject under such high patronage.

"Each new experience is your accomplished professor," said Tracy. "One
I'll call Cleopatra a professor: she's but an illustrious example."

"Imp! you are corrupt." With which my lady tapped farewell on his
shoulder. Leaning from the carriage window, she said: "I suppose I shall
see you at Richford? Merthyr Powys is coming this week. And that reminds
me: he would be the man to appreciate your 'born artist.' Bring her
to me. We will have a dinner. I will despatch a formal invitation
to-morrow. The season's bad out of town for getting decent people to
meet you. I will do my best."

She bowed to Adela and Tracy. Mr. Pole, who had hovered around the
unfamiliar dialogue to attend the great lady to the door, here came in
for a recognition, and bowed obsequiously to the back of the carriage.

Arabella did not tell her sisters what weapons she had employed to
effect the rout of Mrs. Chump. She gravely remarked that the woman had
consented to go, and her sisters thanked her. They were mystified by
Laura's non-recognition of Emilia, and only suspected Wilfrid so faintly
that they were able to think they did not suspect him at all. On the
whole, the evening had been a success. It justified the ladies in
repeating a well-known Brookfield phrase: "We may be wrong in many
things, but never in our judgement of the merits of any given person."
In the case of Tracy Runningbrook, they had furnished a signal instance
of their discernment. Him they had met at the house of a friend of the
Ti