scountess was dressed in the perfection of that French taste whose
chief characteristic is freshness and elegance. She was light,
gauzy, and floating,--a sweeping something of Valenciennes and white
muslin,--but yet human withal, and very graceful. Her friend, in deep
black, with a rich lace veil fastened on her head behind, and draped
artistically over one shoulder, was a charming personification of
affliction not beyond consolation. When they met, it was with an
exchange of looks that said, "This ought to do."

Lady Lackington debated with herself what precise manner of reception
she would award to Mr. Dunn,--whether to impose by the haughty
condescension of a fine lady, or fascinate by the graceful charm of an
agreeable one. She was "equal to either fortune," and could calculate
on success, whichever road she adopted. While she thus hesitated, he
entered.

If his approach had little or nothing of the man of fashion about it,
it was still a manner wherein there was little to criticise. It was not
bold nor timid, and, without anything like over-confidence, there was
yet an air of self-reliance that was not without dignity.

At dinner the conversation ranged over the usual topics of foreign
travel, foreign habits, collections, and galleries. Of pictures and
statues he had seen much, and evidently with profit and advantage; of
people and society he knew next to nothing, and her Ladyship quickly
detected this deficiency, and fell back upon it as her stronghold.

"When hard-worked men like myself take a holiday," said Dunn, "they
are but too glad to escape from the realities of life by taking refuge
amongst works of art. The painter and the sculptor suggest as much
poetry as can consist with their stern notions, and are always real
enough to satisfy the demand for fact."

"But would not what you call your holiday be more pleasantly passed in
making acquaintances? You could of course have easy access to the most
distinguished society."

"I'm a bad Frenchman, my Lady, and speak not a word of German or
Italian."

"English is very generally cultivated just now,--the persons best worth
talking to can speak it."

"The restraint of a strange tongue, like the novelty of a court dress,
is a sad detractor from all naturalness. At least, in my own little
experience with strangers, I have failed to read anything of a man's
character when he addressed me in a language not his own."

"And was it essential you should have read