“Good gracious! Lady Buckhaven, is it not? How do you do? I dare not hope that your ladyship recollects!—Mrs. Broughty—I had the honour of meeting you at—lord, I shall forget my own name next, I daresay! I fancy you are acquainted with my cousin, Lady Batterstown. Dear Albinia! the sweetest creature! Your ladyship must allow me to present my daughter!”
This was uttered with such a gush of friendliness that Meg, not quite so well-experienced in the ways of the world as she thought herself, was rather overwhelmed. She was certainly acquainted with Lady Batterstown, but she felt sure that she had never before encountered Mrs. Broughty. But although she felt thaf Lady Legerwood, easy-going though she was, would unhesitatingly have depressed Mrs. Broughty’s pretensions, she found herself to be quite unable to do so. It seemed, moreover, that Kitty was acquainted with Miss Broughty: she had certainly been chatting to her, and it appeared that she regarded her with approval. Mrs. Broughty, voluble, and wonderfully assured, was talking of Kitty as though she knew her well, dexterously coupling her with Olivia, rallying both girls on their lack of interest in humdrum shopping, and saying that they must not be allowed to chatter to one another now, but might perhaps meet one day soon. She contrived to tell Meg that she was staying in Hans Crescent—quite out of the world, dear Lady Buckhaven would say!—and even to extort from Meg, stunned by this ruthless eloquence, the expression of a hope that they might become better acquainted. By this time her parcel had been made up, and she was obliged to move away from the counter. While she was taking leave of Meg, at much greater length than the circumstances warranted, Olivia, who had been standing all the time with downcast eyes, and heightened colour, glanced fleetingly into Kitty’s face, and said in a low, unhappy voice: “Pray, forgive—! I mean—I daresay we shan’t meet again! I should not wish—”
Kitty interrupted impulsively: “Indeed, I hope we may!”
Miss Broughty clasped her hand gratefully. “Thank you! You are very good! I wish very much—You see, I have not any friends in London! Not female friends! Oh, Mama is waiting for me! I must go! Goodbye!—so happy to—!”
The sentence was left in mid-air; a tiny curtsy was dropped to Meg; and Olivia followed her mother towards the door.
“Well!” said Meg. “Kitty, who in the world are they? How do you come to know them?”
“But I don’t!” Kitty replied. “I fell into conversation with Miss Broughty, but it was the merest nothing!”
“Good God, I thought they must be friends of yours! Odious, pushing woman! I wish I had given her a set-down! Depend upon it, if I see her again she will claim rne as a friend of long-standing! I can’t conceive how Lady Batterstown comes to have such a vulgar cousin, and I am positive she never introduced her to me.”
“Oh, dear, I am very sorry if I have got you into a scrape!” Kitty said penitently. “But I felt so much pity for Miss Broughty—I had been watching her, you know, thinking how beautiful she was, and that horrid woman spoke to her in such, a way, and she looked frightened, and unhappy! And then I could see she was so much mortified by her mother’s manners that I could not but assure her that I should be happy to meet her again. Meg, did you ever behold a lovelier girl? She was like a fairy princess!”
“I suppose she was very pretty,” acknowledged Meg. “If her hair is naturally that colour, which Mrs. Broughty’s is not!”