The Real Charlotte. 321 



finement, but lacked the feminine quality of unreasoning 

 pertinacity. From self-pity for the loss of an ideal to 

 gratitude for an escape is not far to go, and all that now 

 remained to him of bitterness was a gentle self-contempt for 

 his own inadequacy iu falling in love, as in everything 

 else. 



It may be imagined that in Lismoyle Francie was a valued 

 and almost invariable topic of conversation. Each visitor to 

 Rosemount went there in the character of a scout, and a de- 

 tailed account of her interview was published on every 

 possible occasion. 



" Well, I took my time about calling on her," observed 

 Mrs. Baker ; " I thought I'd let her see I was in no hurry." 



Mrs. Corkran, with whom Mrs. Baker was having tea, felt 

 guiltily conscious of having called on Mrs. Lambert two 

 days after her arrival, and hastened to remind the company 

 of the pastoral nature of the attention. 



" Oh, of course we know clergymen's families can't pick 

 their company," went on Mrs. Baker, dismissing the inter- 

 ruption not without a secret satisfaction that Carrie Beattie, 

 who, in the absence of Miss Corkran, was pouring out tea 

 for her future mother-in-law, should see that other people 

 did not consider the Rev. Joseph such a catch as she did. 

 *' Only that Lambert's such a friend of Mr. Baker's, and 

 always banked with him, I declare I don't know that I'd 

 have gone at all. I assure you it gave me quite a turn to 

 see her stuck up there in poor Lucy Lambert's chair, talk- 

 ing about the grand hotels that she was in, in London and 

 Paris, as if she never swept out a room or cleaned a saucepan 

 in her life." 



" She had all the walls done round with those penny 

 fans," struck in Miss Kathleen Baker, " and a box of French 

 bongbongs out on the table ; and oh, mamma ! did you 

 notice the big photograph of him and her together on the 

 chimney-piece ? " 



" I could notice nothing, Kathleen, and I didn't want to 

 notice them," replied Mrs. Baker ; " I could think of noth- 

 ing but of what poor Lucy Lambert would say to see her 

 husband dancing attendance on that young hussy without so 

 much as a mourning ring on him, and her best tea-service 

 thrashed about as if it was kitchen delf," 



X 



