t2 The Real Charlotte, 



in skilled hands, something might even be made of that 

 legacy. Miss Mullen thought a great deal about her legacy 

 and the steps she had taken with regard to it as she drove 

 to BrufF. The horse that drew her ancient phaeton moved 

 with a dignity befitting his eight and twenty years ; the three 

 miles of level lake-side road between Lismoyle and Bruff 

 were to him a serious undertaking, and by the time he had 

 arrived at his destination, his mistress's active mind had 

 pursued many pleasant mental paths to their utmost limit. 



This was the first of the two catholic and comprehensive 

 entertainments that Lady Dysart's sense of her duty towards 

 her neighbours yearly impelled her to give, and when 

 Charlotte, wearing her company smile, came down the steps 

 of the terrace to meet her hostess, the difficult revelry was 

 at its height. Lady Dysart had cast her nets over a wide 

 expanse, and the result was not encouraging. She stood, 

 tall, dark and majestic, on the terrace, surveying the im- 

 practicable row of women that stretched, forlorn of men, 

 along one side of the tennis grounds, much as Cassandra 

 might have scanned the beleaguering hosts trom the ram- 

 parts of Troy ; and as she advanced to meet her latest guest, 

 her strong, clear-eyed face was perplexed and almost tragic. 



" How do you do, Miss Mullen ? " she said in tones of 

 unconcealed gloom. '' Have you ever seen so few men in 

 your life ? and there are five and forty women ! I cannot 

 imagine where they have all come from, but I know where 

 I wish they would take themselves to, and that is to the 

 bottom of the lake ! " 



The large intensity of Lady Dysart's manner gave unin- 

 tended weight to her most trivial utterance, and had she 

 reflected very deeply before she spoke, it might have oc- 

 curred to her that this was not a specially fortunate manner 

 of greeting a female guest. But Charlotte understood that 

 nothing personal was intended ; she knew that the freedom 

 of Bruff had been given to her, and that she could afford to 

 listen to abuse of the outer world with the composure of one 

 of the inner circle. 



" Well, your ladyship," she said, in the bluff, hearty voice 

 which she felt accorded best with the theory of herself that 

 she had built up in Lady Dysart's mind, " I'll head a forlorn 

 hope to the bottom of the lake for you, and welcome ; but 



