Ad of returning to her rooms, she followed her father and his new
"friends" into the sitting-room. Count Ville-Handry spoke of Mrs. Brian
and M. Elgin always as "the family." They did not long remain alone. The
count and his young wife had probably let it be known that they would be
at home that evening; and soon a number of visitors came in, some of
them old friends of the family, but the great majority intimates from
Circus Street. Henrietta was too busy watching her stepmother to notice
how eagerly she herself was examined, what glances they cast at her, and
how careful the married ladies, as well as the young girls, were to
leave her alone. It required a brutal scene to open her mind to the
truth, and to bring her thoughts back to the horrible reality of her
situation. That scene came but too soon. As the visitors increased, the
conversation had ceased to be general, and groups had formed; so that
two ladies came to sit down close by Henrietta. They were apparently
friends of the young countess, for she did not know them, and one of
them had a strong foreign accent. They were talking. Instinctively
Henrietta listened. "Why did you not bring your daughter?" asked one of
them. "How could I?" replied the other. "I would not bring her here for
the world. Don't you know what kind of a woman the count's daughter is?
It is incredible, and almost too scandalous. On the day of her father's
marriage she ran away with somebody, by the aid of a servant, who has
since been dismissed; and they had to get the police to help them bring
her back. If it had not been for our dear Sarah, who is goodness itself,
they would have sent her to a house of correction." A stifled cry
interrupted them. They looked round. Henrietta had suddenly been taken
ill, and had fallen to the ground. Instantly, and with one impulse,
everybody was up. But the honorable M. Elgin had been ahead of them all,
and had rushed up with such surprising promptness at the very moment
when the accident happened, that it almost
