Canterbridge slightly turned her handsome head towards him as she
walked unbendingly at his side. "Tell me how you manage to keep
your absolute simplicity so fresh. Do you suppose it wasn't known at
Oldenhurst that Frank had quite compromised himself with Miss Macy over
there?"

"It certainly was not known 'over there,'" said Bradley, curtly.

"Don't be angry with me."

Such an appeal from the tall, indifferent woman at his side, so
confidently superior to criticism, and uttered in a low tone, made him
smile, albeit uneasily.

"I only meant to congratulate you," she continued carelessly.
"Dunshunner is not a bad sort of fellow, and will come into a good
property some day. And then, society is so made up of caprice, just
now, that it is well for your wife's cousin to make the most of her
opportunities while they last. She is very popular now; but next
season--" Seeing that Bradley remained silent, she did not finish
the sentence, but said with her usual abruptness, "Do you know a Miss
Araminta Eulalie Sharpe?"

Bradley started. Could any one recognize honest Minty in the hopeless
vulgarity which this fine lady had managed to carelessly import into her
name? His eye kindled.

"She is an old friend of mine, Lady Canterbridge."

"How fortunate! Then I can please you by giving you good news of her.
She is the coming sensation. They say she is very rich, but quite one of
the people, you know: in fact, she makes no scruples of telling you her
father was a blacksmith, I think, and takes the dear old man with her
everywhere. FitzHarry raves about her, and says her naivete is something
too delicious. She is regularly in with some of the best people already.
Lady Dungeness has taken her up, and Northforeland is only waiting for
your cousin's engagement to be able to go over decently. Shall I ask
her to Buckenthorpe?--come, now, as an apology for my rudeness to your
cousin?" She was very womanly now in spite of her high collar, her
straight back, and her tightly-fitting jacket, as she stood there
smiling. Suddenly, her smile faded; she drew her breath in quickly.

She had caught a glimpse of his usually thoughtful face and eyes, now
illuminated with some pleasant memory.

"Thank you," he said smilingly, yet with a certain hesitation, as
he thought of The Lookout and Araminta Eulalie Sharpe, and tried to
reconcile them with the lady before him. "I should like it very much."

"Then you have known Miss Sharpe a long time?