ishwoman, though she had lived at Rome all her life,
and had married an Italian nobleman. She was now in London for a few
weeks, and still bore in mind her friendship for Ayala, and a certain
promise she had once made her. In Rome Lady Tringle, actuated by
Augusta, who at the moment was very angry with everybody including
her own lover, had quarrelled with the Marchesa. The Marchesa had
then told Ayala that she, Ayala, must stay with her aunt,--must,
in fact, cease for the time to come to the Marchesa's apartments,
because of the quarrel; but that a time would come in which they
might again be friends. Soon afterwards the Marchesa had heard that
the Tringle family had discarded poor Ayala,--that her own quarrel
had, in fact, extended itself to Ayala, and that Ayala had been
shunted off to a poor relation, far away from all the wealth and
luxuries which she had been allowed to enjoy for so short a time.
Therefore, soon after her arrival in London, the Marchesa had made
herself acquainted with the address of the Dosetts, and now was in
Kingsbury Crescent in fulfilment of her promise made at Rome.

"So now you have got our friend Ayala," said the Marchesa with a
smile to Mrs. Dosett.

"Yes; we have her now. There has been a change. Her sister, Lucy, has
gone to my husband's sister, Lady Tringle."

The Marchesa made a pleasant little bow at each word. She seemed to
Mrs. Dosett to be very gorgeously dressed. She was thoroughly well
dressed, and looked like a Marchesa;--or perhaps, even, like a
Marchioness. She was a tall, handsome woman, with a smile perhaps
a little too continuously sweet, but with a look conscious of her
own position behind it. She had seen in a moment of what nature was
Ayala, how charming, how attractive, how pretty, how clever,--how
completely the very opposite of the Tringles! Ayala learned Italian
so readily that she could talk it almost at once. She could sing,
and play, and draw. The Marchesa had been quite willing that her
own daughter Nina should find a friend in Ayala. Then had come the
quarrel. Now she was quite willing to renew the friendship, though
Ayala's position was so sadly altered. Mrs. Dosett was almost
frightened as the grand lady sat holding Ayala's hand, and patting
it. "We used to know her so well in Rome;--did we not, Ayala?"

"You were very kind to me."

"Nina couldn't come, because her father would make her go with him to
the pictures. But now, my dear, you must come to us