d she was
thankful that Cary's cousin, Miss Ward, was staying with them, to call
attention off from herself.

Miss Ward was an accomplished, charming woman of middle age,
who for years had resided in the Earl of St Elmer's family as
governess--greatly valued for her many estimable qualities. Not being
in robust health, she had absented herself for a short season from her
onerous duties, and in her dear friend and cousin's house, sought and
obtained quiet and renovation. Miss Ward often found difficulty in
repressing a smile at Bab's superfluous graces and animated gestures;
but it was a kindly smile, for the stately conventionalities amongst
which she usually existed, rendered these traits of less refined
manners rather refreshing than otherwise. Miss Ward was out when Mrs
Combermere's equipage drove up to Mr Norman's door; and that large
lady, with her daughter Bell, accompanied by Mr Newton, made their way
up stairs to Mrs Norman's drawing-room. Mrs Combermere was always
astoundingly grand and patronising when she honoured Cary with a call;
Mrs Combermere liked to call upon folks whom she denominated
inferiors--to impress them with an overwhelming idea of her
importance. But on the simple-minded literal Cary, this honour was
lost, she received it with such composure and unconscious placidity:
on Bab it produced, indeed, the desired effect; but whether it was Mrs
Combermere's loud talking and boasting, or Mr Newton's easy negligence
and patronising airs, that caused her to colour and hesitate, it is
not possible to define. Bab was not herself; and she began to be
ashamed of living in Pentonville, when Mr Newton spoke of Belgravia.
Miss Ward, who had returned from her shopping excursion, glided into
the room unnoticed, in the middle of a description Mr Newton was
giving of a magnificent place, belonging to a dear friend, with whom
he had been staying, ere he had the 'unspeakable felicity of meeting
Mrs Combermere.'

'Your description is a graphic one, John Blomfield,' said Miss Ward in
a low voice close to his ear; 'but how came you here--in this
company?'

John Blomfield, _alias_ John Newton, started as if an adder had bitten
him, and gazed franticly upon the intruder. 'Miss Ward, madam,' he
exclaimed involuntarily, 'don't say more, and I'll go this instant!'

'Then go,' continued Miss Ward majestically, pointing to the door;
'and beware, John Blomfield, how you dare to enter a gentleman's house
unauthorised agai