ndeed, Lord Erymanth did invite us all for a fortnight to his great
old mansion in Piccadilly to see the Exhibition, and, as he solemnly
told me, "to observe enough of our institutions as may prepare my young
friends for future life." Even Dora was asked, by special entreaty
from Viola, who undertook to look after her--rather too boldly,
considering that Di--i.e. Mrs. Enderby--was mistress of Viola's
movements, and did not leave her much time to waste upon us.

In fact, Mrs. Enderby, though perfectly civil, was evidently hostile to
us, and tried to keep her sister out of our way as much as she could,
thickening engagements upon her, at which Viola made all the comical
murmurs her Irish blood could prompt, but of course in vain. Eustace's
great ambition was to follow her to her parties, and Lady Diana
favoured him when she could; but Harold would have nothing to do with
such penances. He never missed a chance of seeing Viola come down
attired for them, but, as he once said, "that was enough for him." He
did not want to see her handed about and grimaced at by a lot of fine
gentlemen who did not seem to think anything worth the trouble; and as
to the crowd and the stifling, they made him feel ready to strike out
and knock everyone down.

So much Eustace and I elicited in short sentences one day, when we were
rather foolishly urging on him to let himself be taken with us to an
evening party. No, he went his own way and took Dora with him, and I
was quite sure that they were safe together, and that after his year's
experience he was to be trusted to know where it was fitting to take
her. They saw a good deal that was more entertaining than we could
venture on; and, moreover, Harold improved his mind considerably in the
matters of pottery, porcelain, and model lodging-houses.

Dermot was in London too, not staying with uncle or sister, for both of
whom he was much too erratic, though he generally presented himself at
such times as were fittest for ascertaining our movements for the day,
when it generally ended in his attaching himself to some of us, for
Harold seemed to have passed an act of oblivion on the doings of that
last unhappy meeting, and allowed himself to be taken once or twice
with Eustace into Dermot's own world; but not only was he on his guard
there, but he could not be roused to interest even where horseflesh was
concerned. Some one said he was too great a barbarian, and so he was.
His sports and revel