still with us, that the Hon.
Mrs. Erskine and her daughter came to pay us a visit of congratulation
on the success of our entertainment. Danvers had gone off to walk, and
so it fell upon the three of us to receive these visitors in the
music-room, where we were having tea.

The elder lady, whom Sandy insisted had come to Edinburgh to marry me,
was an intentional female, with much hair, much rouge, and a pallor
heightened by rice-powder, which gave her a very floury and unclean
appearance. Her eyes were an indescribable color, resembling the pulp
of a grape, and near-set, a thing which I have never been able to abide
in man, woman, or child. Her nose was long and peaked, and her mouth
dropped at the corners. But it was the strange set of her whole figure
which struck my notice again and again. For she was, to use a lumbering
expression, all in front of her spine, with neither backward curve to
her head, nor her shoulders nor hips, which gave her a peculiarly
unpliable appearance. Her voice was high and of a singular penetrating
quality, and she had an over-civil manner to us, as of one who has
something to gain. Her gown, of blue, had many strange kinds of
trimming which seemed both needless and inexpressive, and what with the
rouge and the chains and hangings around her neck, she reminded me of
nothing so much as a grotesque figure for a Christmas-tree decoration.

When it be added to all of this that she had a fearful habit of
emphasizing certain words in a senseless and flippant style, and of
waving a lace kerchief constantly, after the manner of a flag, it may
be imagined with what joy I relished her society.

"Ah!" she said, "you are alone after the party. What a success it was!
A positive triumph, positive! Isabel and I had been told how delightful
Edinburgh society was, but we were not prepared for the gaiety we
found. It was charming! Positively charming! And how beautiful you
looked, my dear," she went on, turning to Nancy. "Of course we'd heard
of you--every one in any society at all has heard of you, you know; but
you've such style, my dear--positively the belle-air, positively!

"I know you're pleased to hear how your daughter is adored, aren't you,
Lord Stair? It's what I say to the dear duchess (the Duchess of Mont
Flathers, you know--we're just like sisters!). 'Maria,' I say to her,
'of course I am pleased to have Isabel the rage, as she is--it's only
natural, she being my daughter, that I should feel