Soon Lord Tancred's two sisters entered the room.
They were nice, fresh English girls, and stood a good deal in awe of their mother. They kissed her and sat down on the bed. They felt it was a momentous moment, because Lady Tancred never saw any one until her hair was arranged—not even her own daughters.
"Your brother Tristram is going to be married," she said and referred to the letter lying on the coverlet, "to a Countess Shulski, a niece of that Mr. Markrute whom one meets about."
"Oh! Mother!" and "Really!" gasped Emily and Mary.
"Have we seen her?"
"Do we know her?"
"No, I think we can none of us have seen her. She certainly was not with Mr. Markrute at Cowes, and no one has been in town, except this last week for Flora's wedding. I suppose Tristram must have met her in Scotland, or possibly abroad. He went to Paris, you remember, at Easter, and again in July."
"I wonder what she is like," said Emily.
"Is she young?" asked Mary.
"Tristram does not say," replied Lady Tancred, "only that she is beautiful."