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every trial.”
    “My faith in you, dear cousin, leads me to believe that you would have lost no time in discovering some other support,” he answered, in a voice as sweet as hers. He smiled slightly, watching her bite her lip, and said, as he opened his snuff-box: “And what is the trial at present besetting you?”
    She opened her eyes very wide at this, saying in a bewildered tone: “My dear Alverstoke, what can you mean? Apart from my wretched health—and I never talk of that, you know—none at all! I’ve discharged my errand, and must take my leave of you before my poor Harriet begins to fancy I’ve suffered one of my stupid spasms. She is waiting for me in the carriage, for she wouldn’t hear of my coming alone. Such good care as she takes of me! I am quite spoilt between you all!” She rose, drawing her shawl around her, and putting out her hand. But before he could take it she let it fall, exclaiming: “Oh, that puts me in mind of something I have been wanting to discuss with you! Advise me, Alverstoke! I am quite in a quandary!”
    “You put me to shame, Lucretia,” he said. “As often as I disappoint you, you never disappoint me!”
    “How you do love to joke me! Now, be serious, pray! It is about Chloë.”
    “Oh, in that case you must hold me excused!” said his lordship. “I know nothing of schoolgirls, and my advice would be worthless, I fear.”
    “Ah, you too think of her as a schoolgirl! Indeed, it seems almost impossible that she should be grown-up! But so it is: she’s all but seventeen; and although I had thought not to bring her out until next year, everyone tells me it would be wrong to postpone the event. They say, you know, that the dear Queen’s health is now so indifferent that she may pop-off at any moment, and even if she doesn’t she won’t be equal to holding any Drawing-rooms next year. Which has me in a worry, because naturally I must present the sweet child—it is what poor Henry would have wished—and if the Queen were to die there can be no Drawing-rooms. As for presenting her at Carlton House, I wouldn’t for the world do so! I don’t know how we are to go on. Even if the Duchess of Gloucester were to take the Queen’s place—which, of course, the Prince Regent might desire her to do, for she has always been his favourite sister—it wouldn’t be the same thing. And who knows but what one might find that odious Lady Hertford in the Queen’s place?”
    Alverstoke, who could think of few more unlikely contingencies, replied sympathetically: “Who indeed?”
    “So I feel it to be my duty to present Chloë this season, whatever the cost!” said Mrs Dauntry. “I had hoped to have been so much beforehand with the world next year as to have been able to do the thing handsomely, but that, alas, can scarcely be! Dear child! When I told her that I should be obliged to present her in one of my own Court dresses, because the cost of such a dress as one would wish her to wear is utterly beyond my means, she was so good and so uncomplaining that it quite went to my heart! I couldn’t forbear to sigh: she is quite pretty that I positively long to rig her out to the best advantage! But if I must bring her out this season it cannot be.”
    “In that case, my advice to you is to wait until next year,” responded Alverstoke. “Consoling yourself with the reflection that if there are no Drawing-rooms then none of the season’s fair come-outs will enjoy and experience which is denied her.”
    “Ah, no! How could I be so improvident?” she countered. “Somehow I must contrive to present her this spring! A dance, too! But how to do that, situated as I am—” She broke off, apparently struck by a sudden idea. “I wonder if Louisa means to bring Jane out this season? Sadly freckled, poor child, and such a deplorable figure! However, you may depend upon it that Louisa will make a push to present her creditably, though she is such a nip-cheese that I’m persuaded she will