It was small wonder, then, that Arabella, peeping into her mother’s dressing-room, should have found that admirable lady lost in a pleasant daydream.

“Mama?”

“Arabella! Come in, my love, and close the door! Your godmother has written, and in the kindest way! Dear, dear creature, I knew I might depend upon her!”

“It’s true then? I am to go?” Arabella breathed.

“Yes, and she begs I will send you to her as soon as may be contrived, for it seems that Bridlington is travelling on the Continent, and she is quite moped to death, living in that great house all alone. I knew how it must be! She will treat you as her own daughter. And, oh, my dearest child, I never asked it of her, but she has offered to present you at one of the Drawing-rooms!”

This dizzy prospect took from Arabella all power of speech. She could only gaze at her mother, while that lady poured out a list of the delights in store for her.

“Everything I could wish for you! Almack’s—I am sure she will be able to procure you a voucher, for she knows all the patronesses! Concerts! The theatre! All the ton parties—breakfasts, Assemblies, balls—my love, you will have such opportunities! you can have no notion! Why, she writes that—but never mind that!”

Arabella found her voice. “But Mama, how shall we contrive? The expense! I cannot—I cannot to go London without any clothes to wear!”

“No, indeed!” said Mrs. Tallant laughing. “That would present a very odd appearance, my love!”

“Yes, Mama, but you know what I mean! I have only two ball dresses, and though they do very well for the Assemblies in Harrowgate, and country parties, I know they are not modish enough for Almack’s! And Sophy has borrowed all Mrs. Caterham’s Monthly Museums, and I have been looking at the fashions in them, and it is too lowering, ma’am! Everything must be trimmed with diamonds, or ermine, or point-lace!”