But it was when the ladies were alone that Becky knew the tug of war

would come. And then indeed the little woman found herself in such a

situation as made her acknowledge the correctness of Lord Steyne's

caution to her to beware of the society of ladies above her own sphere.

As they say, the persons who hate Irishmen most are Irishmen; so,

assuredly, the greatest tyrants over women are women. When poor little

Becky, alone with the ladies, went up to the fire-place whither the

great ladies had repaired, the great ladies marched away and took

possession of a table of drawings. When Becky followed them to the

table of drawings, they dropped off one by one to the fire again. She

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tried to speak to one of the children (of whom she was commonly fond in

public places), but Master George Gaunt was called away by his mamma;

and the stranger was treated with such cruelty finally, that even Lady

Steyne herself pitied her and went up to speak to the friendless little

woman.

"Lord Steyne," said her Ladyship, as her wan cheeks glowed with a

blush, "says you sing and play very beautifully, Mrs. Crawley--I wish

you would do me the kindness to sing to me."

"I will do anything that may give pleasure to my Lord Steyne or to

you," said Rebecca, sincerely grateful, and seating herself at the

piano, began to sing.

She sang religious songs of Mozart, which had been early favourites of

Lady Steyne, and with such sweetness and tenderness that the lady,

lingering round the piano, sat down by its side and listened until the

tears rolled down her eyes. It is true that the opposition ladies at

the other end of the room kept up a loud and ceaseless buzzing and

talking, but the Lady Steyne did not hear those rumours. She was a

child again--and had wandered back through a forty years' wilderness to

her convent garden. The chapel organ had pealed the same tones, the

organist, the sister whom she loved best of the community, had taught

them to her in those early happy days. She was a girl once more, and

the brief period of her happiness bloomed out again for an hour--she

started when the jarring doors were flung open, and with a loud laugh

from Lord Steyne, the men of the party entered full of gaiety.

He saw at a glance what had happened in his absence, and was grateful

to his wife for once. He went and spoke to her, and called her by her

Christian name, so as again to bring blushes to her pale face--"My wife

says you have been singing like an angel," he said to Becky. Now there

are angels of two kinds, and both sorts, it is said, are charming in

their way.




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