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This made the Viscount burst out laughing, and effectually banished his vexation. 'Aunt Sophronia,' he said, 'you are quite abominable! Did anyone ever tell you so? But you are right, for all that, as I've lately been brought to realize. It is clearly time that I brought my delightfully untrammelled life to an end. The only difficulty is that I have yet to meet any female who will both meet with Papa's approval, and inspire me with the smallest desire to become riveted to her for life!'

  'You are a great deal too nice in your requirements,' she told him severely; but added, after a moment's reflection: 'Not but what I don't wish any of my children to marry anyone for whom they don't feel a decided preference. When I was a girl, you know, most of us married to oblige our parents. Why, even my bosom-bow in those days did so, though she positively disliked the man to whom her parents betrothed her! And a vilely unhappy marriage it was! But your grandfather, my dear Ashley, having himself been forced to contract an affiance which was far from happy, was resolute in his deter mination that none of his children should find themselves in a similar situation. And nothing, you will agree, could have been more felicitous than the result of his liberality of mind! To be sure, there were only three of us, and your Aunt Jane died before you were born, but when I married Emborough, and Everard married your dear mama, no one could have been more delighted than your grandfather!'

  'I am sorry he died before I was out of short coats,' Desford remarked. 'I have no memory of him, but from all I have heard about him from you, and from Mama, I wish that I had had the privilege of knowing him.'

  'Yes, you'd have liked him,' she nodded. 'What's more, he'd have liked you! And if your father hadn't waited until he was more than thirty before he got married to your mama you would have known him! And why Wroxton should glump at you for doing exactly what he did himself is something I don't understand, or wish to understand! There, you be off to play billiards with your cousins, and the Montsale girl, before I get to be as cross as crabs, which they say I always do when I talk about your father!'

  He was very ready to obey her, and she did not again revert to the subject. He stayed for a week in Hampshire, and passed his time very pleasurably. After the exigencies of the Season, with its ceaseless breakfasts, balls, routs, race-parties at Ascot, opera-parties, convivial gatherings at Cribb's Parlour, evenings spent at Watier's, not to mention the numerous picnics, and al fresco entertainments ranging from quite ordinary parties to some, given by ambitious hostesses, so daringly original that they were talked of for at least three days, the lazy, unexacting life at Hazelfield exactly suited his humour. If one visited the Em-boroughs there was no need to fear that every moment of every day would have been planned, or that you would be dragged to explore some ruin or local beauty spot when all you wished to do was to go for a strolling walk with some other like-minded members of the party. Lady Emborough never made elaborate plans for the entertainment of her guests. She merely fed them very well, and saw to it that whatever facilities were necessary to enable them to engage in such sports or exercises as they favoured were always at hand; and if any amusement, such as a race-meeting, happened to be taking place she informed them that carriages were ready to take them to it, but if anyone felt disin clined to go racing he had only to say so, and need not fear that she would be offended.

  She adhered strictly to this admirable course when she disclosed to Desford that she had promised to attend a party on the last night of his visit, taking with her her two elder sons, as many of her daughters as she thought proper, and any of the guests she would no doubt have staying with her at Hazelfield and who did not despise quite a small, country ball. 'I shall be obliged to go,' she said, in the resigned voice of one who did not expect to derive any pleasure from the offered festivity. 'And Emma and Mortimer mean to go too. Theresa has cried off, but that won't surprise Lady Bugle, for she knows very well that Theresa is increasing. The Montsales don't wish to go either, and there's no reason why they should when I must go, and can chaperon Mary for them. Ned and Gil mean to go, but Christian don't: he hasn't started to dangle after pretty girls yet. And if you don't fancy it, Desford, there's no reason why you shouldn't remain here, and play whist with the Montsales and John Thimbleby! In fact, I strongly advise you to do so, because it's my belief you'll think the Bugles' party a dead bore.'

  'Think it a dead bore when that glorious creature will be present?' ejaculated Mr Gilbert Emborough, who had entered the room in time to hear the last part of this speech. 'Nothing could be a bore when she is there!'

  'Come, this is most promising!' said Desford. 'Who is this glorious she? Am I acquainted with her?'

  'No, you ain't acquainted with her,' replied Gilbert, 'but you have seen her! What's more, you were much struck – well, anyone would be! – and you asked Ned who she was.'

  'What, the ravishing girl I saw at the races?' exclaimed Desford. 'My dear aunt, of course I will go with you to this ball! The most exquisite piece of nature I've seen in a twelvemonth! I hoped Ned might present me to her, and very unhandsome I thought it of him that he didn't do so.'

  Gilbert gave a crack of laughter. 'Afraid you'd cut him out! See if I don't roast him for it!'

  'But who is she?' demanded the Viscount. 'I didn't properly hear what Ned said, when I asked him that question, for at that moment we were joined by some friends of his, and by the time we had parted from them the next race was about to start, and I thought no more about the Beauty.'

  'Shame!' said his cousin, grinning at him.

  'Her name is Lucasta,' said Lady Emborough. 'She's the eldest daughter of Sir Thomas Bugle: he has five of 'em, and four sons. Certainly a very handsome girl, and I daresay she may make a good marriage, for she has all the men in raptures. But if her portion is above five thousand pounds I shall own myself astonished. Sir Thomas's fortune is no more than genteel, and he hasn't the least notion of trying to sconce the reckoning.'

  'Poor Lucasta!' said the Viscount lightly.

  'You may well say so! Her mama brought her out in the spring, and there was never anything so unfortunate! Would you believe it? – within three days of her being presented at Court Sir Thomas received an express letter from Dr Cromer, inform ing him that old Lady Bugle had been suddenly taken ill! So, of course, they were obliged to post home in a great hurry, because she was very old, and even though one knew she was as tough as whitleather there is always the chance that such persons will be perfectly stout one day, and dead the next. Not that she did die the next day: she lasted for more than two months, which naturally made it impossible for her mama to take Lucasta to balls and assemblies until they are out of black gloves. This dance Lady Bugle has got up is to be quite a small affair. She gives it in honour of Stonor Bugle's engagement to the elder Miss Windle. A good enough girl in her way, but it's not an alliance I should welcome for one of my sons!'

  'I should think not indeed!' said Gilbert. 'Why, she's downright knocker-faced!'

  Lady Emborough called him sharply to order for so rudely exaggerating Miss Windle's appearance; but when, on the following evening, the Viscount was presented to the lady he could not feel that Gilbert had been unjust. But he felt also that her homeliness would not have struck him so forcibly had not Lady Bugle caused her to stand side by side with Lucasta Bugle, to receive the guests.

  Lucasta was certainly something quite out of the ordinary way, for besides a countenance of classic beauty her figure was good, and her teeth, when she smiled, were seen to be very even, and as white as whalebone. She had luxuriant hair, which only jealous rivals stigmatized as gingery: it was, in fact, the colour of ripening corn; and her proud mama had frequently been known, when accepting compliments on her burnished curls, to whisper confidentially that they had never to be papered. She seemed to have acquired habits of easy intercourse, in spite of the abrupt curtailment of her first season, for she betrayed none of the signs of shyness which so often made it difficult for their partners at a ball to talk to girls who had only just emerged from the school-room. Her manners were a