a, with a soft, little laugh, spreading out her
beautiful hands.

Lucy hoped that Lady Randolph, who had kept behind, did not hear this
last monosyllable, but she was angry with her husband for laughing, for
abandoning his aunt's side, upon which she herself, astonished, ranged
herself without delay. But what was still more surprising to Lucy, with
her old-fashioned politeness, was to see the second stranger who had
followed the Contessa into the room, but who had not been introduced or
noticed. She had the air of being very young--a dependent probably, and
looking for no attention--and with a little curtsey to the company,
withdrew to the other side of the table on which the lamp was standing.
Lucy had only time to see that there was a second figure, very slim and
slight, and that the light of the lamp seemed to reflect itself in the
soft oval of a youthful face as she passed behind it; but save for this
noiseless movement the young lady gave not the smallest sign of
existence, nor did any one notice her. And it was only when the summons
came to dinner, and when Lucy called forth the bashful Jock to offer his
awkward arm to Lady Randolph, that the unannounced and unconsidered
guest came fully into sight.

"There are no more gentlemen, and I think we must go in together," Lucy
said.

"It is a great honour for me," said the girl. She had a very slight
foreign accent, but she was not in the least shy. She came forward at
once with the utmost composure. Though she was a stranger and a
dependent without a name, she was a great deal more at her ease than
Lucy was, who was the mistress of everything. Lucy for her part was
considerably embarrassed. She looked at the girl, who smiled at her, not
without a little air of encouragement and almost patronage in return.

"I have not heard your name," Lucy at last prevailed upon herself to
say, as they went through the long drawing-room together. "It is very
stupid of me; but I was occupied with Madame di Forno-Populo----"

"You could not hear it, for it was never mentioned," said the girl. "The
Contessa does not think it worth while. I am at present in the cocoon.
If I am pretty enough when I am quite grown up, then she will tell my
name----"

"Pretty enough? But what does that matter? one does not talk of such
things," said the decorous little matron, startled and alarmed.

"Oh, it means everything to me," said the anonymous. "It is doubtful
what I shall be. If I am only a l