oman's dress was nought in those
days. You and I, too, reader, have our weakness, have we not? which makes
us think foolish things now and then. Perhaps it may lie in an excessive
admiration for small hands and feet, a tall lithe figure, large dark
eyes, and dark silken braided hair. All these the Countess possessed, and
she had, moreover, a delicately-formed nose, the least bit curved, and a
clear brunette complexion. Her mouth it must be admitted, receded too
much from her nose and chin and to a prophetic eye threatened
'nut-crackers' in advanced age. But by the light of fire and wax candles
that age seemed very far off indeed, and you would have said that the
Countess was not more than thirty.

Look at the two women on the sofa together! The large, fair, mild-eyed
Milly is timid even in friendship: it is not easy to her to speak of the
affection of which her heart is full. The lithe, dark, thin-lipped
Countess is racking her small brain for caressing words and charming
exaggerations.

'And how are all the cherubs at home?' said the Countess, stooping to
pick up Jet, and without waiting for an answer. 'I have been kept
in-doors by a cold ever since Sunday, or I should not have rested without
seeing you. What have you done with those wretched singers, Mr. Barton?'

'O, we have got a new choir together, which will go on very well with a
little practice. I was quite determined that the old set of singers
should be dismissed. I had given orders that they should not sing the
wedding psalm, as they call it, again, to make a new-married couple look
ridiculous, and they sang it in defiance of me. I could put them into the
Ecclesiastical Court, if I chose for to do so, for lifting up their
voices in church in opposition to the clergyman.'

'And a most wholesome discipline that would be,' said the Countess,
'indeed, you are too patient and forbearing, Mr. Barton. For my part, _I_
lose _my_ temper when I see how far you are from being appreciated in
that miserable Shepperton.'

If, as is probable, Mr. Barton felt at a loss what to say in reply to the
insinuated compliment, it was a relief to him that dinner was announced
just then, and that he had to offer his arm to the Countess.

As Mr. Bridmain was leading Mrs. Barton to the dining-room, he observed,
'The weather is very severe.'

'Very, indeed,' said Milly.

Mr. Bridmain studied conversation as an art. To ladies he spoke of the
weather, and was accustomed to conside