“I am glad you like her, for without all would be of no avail.”
“Oh, my dear Lord Ethalwood, I undertake my duties con amore. It will be a labour of love. What am I saying? Labour, indeed; it will be recreation—a pleasant pastime for me. You know since the death of poor dear Sir Eric I have had but little to engage my thoughts—have sought in vain for an object upon whom I could place my affection. Pardon my blunder. Your grand-daughter is not an object. Ah-ah!”
And the dowager laughed immoderately at this sally.
The earl joined in chorus.
“She’s a wonderfully good-natured creature,” he murmured to himself, “and Aveline will doubtless get on very well with her.”
He was quite right in this surmise, Aveline did get on exceedingly well with the gossiping, merry, elderly lady, who had always something pleasant to say; sometimes it was about the movements of the upper ten—sometimes it was biographical or anecdotal.
In her society Aveline found the hours pass gaily and merrily away.
The result of her companionship with Lady Marvlynn was a perfect success.
The little deficiencies of manner were soon toned down, the musical voice took a more delicate and silvery tone—the actions and movements, always graceful, became more graceful in their high-bred elegance.
Aveline was so quick in learning to adapt herself to her new sphere that Lord Ethalwood wondered at her marvellous progress.