_ Lucy you meant, sir;" and the girl who had
handed the note had said, "_Miss_ Lucy has gone out, sir." It was
evident she was not regarded by the servants as one of themselves--she
had not been degraded by association with menials. This was true. Lucy
had made such separation on her part an indispensable necessity, and
Mrs. Blakely had been too sensible of the value of one possessing so
much taste and skill in all feminine adornments, to hesitate about
complying with her demand. This lady was one of the _nouveaux riches_,
who occupied her life in scheming to attain a position to which neither
birth nor education entitled her. The brightest dream connected with her
present abode had been that its proximity to Lady Houstoun's residence
might lead to an acquaintance with one of the proudest of that charmed
circle in which Mrs. Blakely longed to tread. Hitherto this had proved a
dream indeed, but Edward Houstoun's incursion into her domain, and the
developments made by it, might, she thought, with a little address,
render it a reality. It was with this purpose that she sent a note to
Lady Houstoun, requesting an interview with her on a subject deeply
connected with the honor of her family and the happiness of her son.
Immediately on despatching this note, the servants were ordered to
uncover the furniture in the drawing-room, while she herself hastened to
assume her most becoming morning dress. Her labors were fruitless. "Lady
Houstoun would be at home to Mrs. Blakely till noon," was the scarcely
courteous reply to her carefully worded note. It was an occasion on
which she could not afford to support her pride, and she availed herself
of the permission to call.

The interview between Lady Houstoun and Mrs. Blakely would have been an
interesting study to the nice observer of character. The efforts on the
part of the one lady to be condescending, and on that of the other to be
dignified, were almost equally successful. Mrs. Blakely had seldom felt
her wealth of so little consequence as in the presence of her commanding
yet simply attired hostess, and Lady Houstoun had never been more
disposed to assert the privileges of her rank, than when she heard that
her son had forgotten his own so far as to visit on terms of
equality--nay, if Mrs. Blakely were to be believed, positively to
address in the style of a lover--a seamstress--the seamstress of Mrs.
Blakely.

"This is very painful intelligence to me, Mrs. Blakely--of course y