therefore not unassisted to come out—and came out indeed to such a tune that with all kindness, but with a melancholy deeper than any she had ever yet in the general connection used, Lady Champer was moved to remark that the situation might have been found more possible had a little more historic sense been brought to it. 'You're the dearest thing in the world, and I can't imagine a girl's carrying herself in any way, in a difficult position, better than you do; only I'm bound to say I think you ought to remember that you're entering a very great house, of tremendous antiquity, fairly groaning under the weight of ancient honours, the heads of which—through the tradition of the great part they've played in the world—are accustomed to a great deal of deference. The old Princess, my dear, you see'—her ladyship gathered confidence a little as she went—'is a most prodigious personage.'
'Why, Lady Champer, of course she is, and that's just what I like her for!' said Lily Gunton.
'She has never in her whole life made an advance, any more than any one has ever dreamed of expecting it of her. It's a pity that while you were there you didn't see her, for I think it would have helped you to understand. However, as you did see his sisters, the two Duchesses and dear little Donna Claudia, you know how charming they all can be. They only want to be nice, I know, and I dare say that on the smallest opportunity you'll hear from the Duchesses.'
The plural had a sound of splendour, but Lily quite kept her head. 'What do you call an opportunity? Am I not giving them, by accepting their son and brother, the best—and in fact the only—opportunity they could desire?'
'I like the way, darling,' Lady Champer smiled, 'you talk about "accepting"!'
Lily thought of this—she thought of everything. 'Well, say it would have been a better one still for them if I had refused him.'
