Beside him was a lady with skim-milky eyes
and complexion, belonging to the "interesting" class of women,
where that class merges in the sickly, her greatest pleasure being
apparently to enjoy nothing. Opposite this pair sat two little
girls in white hats and blue feathers.
The lady saw Elfride, smiled and bowed, and touched her husband's
elbow, who turned and received Elfride's movement of recognition
with a gallant elevation of his hat. Then the two children held
up their arms to Elfride, and laughed gleefully.
'Who is that?'
'Why, Lord Luxellian, isn't it?' said Mrs. Swancourt, who with the
vicar had been seated with her back towards them.
'Yes,' replied Elfride. 'He is the one man of those I have seen
here whom I consider handsomer than papa.'
'Thank you, dear,' said Mr. Swancourt.
'Yes; but your father is so much older. When Lord Luxellian gets
a little further on in life, he won't be half so good-looking as
our man.'
'Thank you, dear, likewise,' said Mr. Swancourt.
'See,' exclaimed Elfride, still looking towards them, 'how those
little dears want me! Actually one of them is crying for me to
come.'
'We were talking of bracelets just now. Look at Lady
Luxellian's,' said Mrs. Swancourt, as that baroness lifted up her
arm to support one of the children. 'It is slipping up her arm--
too large by half. I hate to see daylight between a bracelet and
a wrist; I wonder women haven't better taste.
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