"Oh, I've no doubt you'll find plenty to amuse you," she said. "The
country is delightful----"
"Oh, I'm rather fed up with the country," said Lady Heyton. "I've lived
in it all my life, you see--one of a poor country parson's superfluous
daughters. Oh, I've had enough of muddy lanes and stupid local people.
Give me London--and life. One doesn't live in the country, one only
exists, like a vegetable. Do you like my dress?" she asked, with her
irrelevant abruptness; and she cast a complacent eye down her
exquisitely-clad figure.
"It is a very beautiful one," said Celia.
"Paris. The worst of Paris is that, once you have had it, everything
else seems dowdy. By the way, that's a very pretty frock you're
wearing," she added, with an appraising glance.
"I'm glad you like it," said Celia, laughing. "I made it myself."
"Really! How clever you must be! Oh, of course, in the old days I've
made dresses myself; but they were always sights. Yes; you must be very
clever; you have good taste, evidently. I've got a maid who's a perfect
fool; perhaps, sometimes, you won't mind giving her a hint or lending
her a hand?"
"Why, I should be very pleased to do so," said Celia; "though I'm afraid
she will not consider my advice or assistance of any great value, Lady
Heyton."
"How nicely you said that!" said Miriam, again looking up at Celia,
curiously. She possessed intelligence enough to discern, at the first
glance, that Celia was not the common, ordinary type of girl she had
expected to see; but the repose of Celia's attitude, the timbre of her
voice, were making their due impression. "But, of course, you would
speak nicely, having to do with books and all that sort of thing. Do you
like the Marquess?" she asked, slipping off to another subject, with her
usual irrelevance. "He is very stern and grim; and I must confess I'm
almost afraid of him. He is quite different from Percy; they're scarcely
like father and son--I mean my husband, of course."
"I don't think the Marquess is very stern or hard," said Celia,
musingly. "I have only spoken to him once, but he seemed very kind," she
added, with a certain hesitation; for she remembered that he had been
somewhat stern in the matter of the portrait.
"Oh, I dare say it's only his manner," said Lady Heyton; "and I suppose
I'm not a favoured person. You see, he was opposed to our marriage: poor
parson's daughter, you know."