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"
Morris smiled. "You may take your oath of that, Miss Britta," he said
with placid conviction. "Jealous! Jealous isn't the word for it! Why,"
and he surveyed Britta's youthful countenance with fatherly interest,
"you're only a child as it were, and you don't know the world much. Now,
I've been five and twenty years in this family, and I knew Sir Philip's
mother, the Lady _Eulalie_--he named his yacht after her. Ah! she was a
sweet creature--she came from Austria, and she was as dark as her
present ladyship is fair. Wherever she went, I tell you, the women were
ready to cry for spite and envy of her good looks--and they would say
anything against her they could invent. That's the way they go on
sometimes in society, you know."
"As bad as in Bosekop," murmured Britta, more to herself than to him,
"only London is a larger place." Then raising her voice again, she said,
"Perhaps there will be some people wicked enough to hate her ladyship,
Morris?"
"I shouldn't wonder," said Morris philosophically.


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