"I like that young man; though I consider he has sold us shamefully. Any one else?"
"My cousin, Eleanor Massereene."
"The cousin! I am so glad. Anything new is such a relief. And I have heard she is beautiful: is she?"
"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," quotes Marcia, in a low tone, and with a motion of her hand toward the open door inside which sits Molly, that sends Lady Stafford up-stairs without further parley.
"Is it Lady Stafford?" asks Molly, as Marcia re-enters the room.
"Yes."
"She seems very tired."
"I don't know, really. She thinks she is,—which amounts to the same thing. You will see her in half an hour or so as fresh as though fatigue were a thing unknown."
"How does she do it?" asks Molly, curiously, who has imagined Lady Stafford by her tone to be in the last stage of exhaustion.
"How can I say? I suppose her maid knows."