n on one knee it was so momentary
that none saw it but we three, and done with ineffable grace. "Pardon!"
he said, in his sweet Portuguese; "Pardon!" looking up--the handsomest
man I ever beheld; and when I think of that odious wretch the other
night, with his "Oh! 'm sure, beg pardon, 'm sure! 'pon my honour!" I
could have kicked him--I could, indeed!'

Here the Countess laughed out, but relapsed into:

'Alas! that Belmarana should have betrayed that beautiful trusting
creature to De Pel. Such scandal! a duel!--the Duke was wounded. For a
whole year Eugenia did not dare to appear at Court, but had to remain
immured in her country-house, where she heard that Belmarana had married
De Pel! It was for her money, of course. Rich as Croesus, and as wicked
as the black man below! as dear papa used to say. By the way, weren't we
talking of Evan? Ah,--yes!'

And so forth. The Countess was immensely admired, and though her sisters
said that she was 'foreignized' overmuch, they clung to her desperately.
She seemed so entirely to have eclipsed tailordom, or 'Demogorgon,'
as the Countess was pleased to call it. Who could suppose this
grand-mannered lady, with her coroneted anecdotes and delicious
breeding, the daughter of that thing? It was not possible to suppose it.
It seemed to defy the fact itself.

They congratulated her on her complete escape from Demogorgon. The
Countess smiled on them with a lovely sorrow.

'Safe from the whisper, my dears; the ceaseless dread? If you knew what
I have to endure! I sometimes envy you. 'Pon my honour, I sometimes wish
I had married a fishmonger! Silva, indeed, is a most excellent husband.
Polished! such polish as you know not of in England. He has a way--a
wriggle with his shoulders in company--I cannot describe it to you; so
slight! so elegant! and he is all that a woman could desire. But who
could be safe in any part of the earth, my dears, while papa will go
about so, and behave so extraordinarily? I was at dinner at your English
embassy a month ago, and there was Admiral Combleman, then on the
station off Lisbon, Sir Jackson Racial's friend, who was the Admiral at
Lymport formerly. I knew him at once, and thought, oh! what shall I
do! My heart was like a lump of lead. I would have given worlds that we
might one of us have smothered the other! I had to sit beside him--it
always happens! Thank heaven! he did not identify me. And then he told
an anecdote of Papa. It was the dreadful old