"Ah," said Vaura, taking her share, "one from Haughton Hall in the handwriting of madame, and to me."
On opening it a very well-executed photograph of the Hall fell to the floor, which Lionel picked up, while Vaura read aloud as follows:
"DEAR MISS VERNON,—
"I enclose you a photo of the Hall as I have made it. It was a perfect barracks when I saw it first; see what money can do. The American eagle is a great bird, eh? You must marry money. I shall have a gentleman here at Christmas with lots of land and a title. The Duchess of Hatherton would sound well."
"A bete noire of yours," said Lady Esmondet.
"Yes," said Vaura, carelessly, with a shrug of shoulders, going on with the letter.
"I must also settle Blanche this coming season. You observed, I suppose, how, much flesh she had; well, she loses weight every month; secret pining I expect for that naughty"—and Vaura stopped short as she saw the name, a curl of contempt coming to her lip as she read silently—"Trevalyon. She thought by his attentions that he loved her, poor thing; but the Colonel and myself would or could never hear of such a match, as he has a snug little wife hid away somewhere. I have Major Delrose a good deal with me. Your uncle doesn't care for him, neither would you; but the Colonel, dear man, is considerate, and don't expect everyone to be cut after his cloth; and as you will never be able to come north in the cold weather you won't meet him. Give my love to the willowy Marchmonts. We are the gayest of butterflies.
"Your frolicsome,
"KATE HAUGHTON,
"Haughton Hall, Surrey, England.
"MISS VERNON,
"The villa Iberia,
"Rome, Italy.
"November, 1877."
To Delrose at Haughton madame, after mailing above, had said: