Chapter 10 - Page 2

sort, a young person of note. It was nothing unusual for her to know that
she was being pointed out. "That pretty blonde," she often heard it said,
"is Martin Bassett's daughter: sharp fellow, Bassett,--and lucky fellow
too; more money than he can count."

So she was not at all frightened when she walked in behind Miss Belinda.
She glanced about her cheerfully, and, catching sight of Lucia, smiled at
her as she advanced up the room. The call of state Lady Theobald had made
with her grand-daughter had been a very brief one; but Octavia had taken
a decided fancy to Lucia, and was glad to see her again.

"I am glad to see you, Belinda," said her ladyship, shaking hands. "And
you also, Miss Octavia."

"Thank you," responded Octavia.

"You are very kind," Miss Belinda murmured gratefully.

"I hope you are both well?" said Lady Theobald with majestic
condescension, and in tones to be heard all over the room.

"Quite well, thank you," murmured Miss Belinda again. "_Very_ well
indeed;" rather as if this fortunate state of affairs was the result of
her ladyship's kind intervention with the fates.

She felt terribly conscious of being the centre of observation, and
rather overpowered by the novelty of her attire, which was plainly
creating a sensation. Octavia, however, who was far more looked at, was
entirely oblivious of the painful prominence of her position. She
remained standing in the middle of the room, talking to Lucia, who had
approached to greet her. She was so much taller than Lucia, that she
looked very tall indeed by contrast, and also very wonderfully dressed.
Lucia's white muslin was one of Miss Chickie's fifteen, and was, in a
"genteel" way, very suggestive of Slowbridge. Suspended from Octavia's
waist by a long loop of the embroidered ribbon, was a little round fan,
of downy pale-blue feathers, and with this she played as she talked; but
Lucia, having nothing to play with, could only stand with her little
hands hanging at her sides.

"I have never been to an afternoon tea like this before," Octavia said.
"It is nothing like a kettle-drum."

"I am not sure that I know what a kettle-drum is," Lucia answered. "They
have them in London, I think; but I have never been to London."

"They have them in New York," said Octavia; "and they are a crowded sort
of afternoon parties, where ladies go in carriage-toilet, not evening
dress. People are rushing in and out all the time."

Lucia glanced around the room and smiled.

"That is very unlike this," she remarked.

"Well," said Octavia,