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Soon after, when Lord Dolchester told me a ridiculous story about Lady Everton, I laughed heartily, I must confess, though not loudly and she looked at me. I shall never accomplish 'elegant repose." "You would not be half so charming if you did," replied her sister. "Then it is so tempting to say at times what one really thinks! I can not resist it.
"But you say you know what is in that note?" "Oh, yes!" "You've read it?" "Not that." "What do you mean?" Jerry took a closely-folded newspaper from his pocket. "Ratcham, Dolchester, and Froude Magnet, sir Richard Smithson," he read, and then doubling it closely, held it out, pointing to a paragraph. "My eyes swim. I don't understand what you mean, Jerry." "Shall I read it, sir?" "Yes."
She is over there, see with Lady Downham." Looking in the direction indicated, Lord Airlee saw the face that haunted him. "Yes," said Lord Dolchester, with a gay laugh; "and if I were young and unfettered, she would not be Miss Earle much longer." Lord Airlie gazed long and earnestly at the beautiful girl who looked so utterly unconscious of the admiration she excited.
His friends must have thought him slightly deranged. He went about asking every one, "Who is here today?" Among others, he saluted Lord Dolchester with that question. "I can scarcely tell you," replied his lordship. "I am somewhat in a puzzle. If you want to know who is the queen of the fete, I can tell you. It is Lord Earle's daughter, Miss Beatrice Earle.
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