As she read it, she could not refrain
from thinking how wonderfully Frank Greystock would plead the cause of the
Indian prince, if the privilege of pleading it could be given to him.
The spring had come round, with May and the London butterflies, at the
time at which our story begins, and during six months Frank Greystock had
not been at Fawn Court. Then one day Lady Eustace came down with her
ponies, and her footman, and a new dear friend of hers, Miss Macnulty.
While Miss Macnulty was being honoured by Lady Fawn, Lizzie had retreated
to a corner with her old dear friend Lucy Morris. It was pretty to see how
so wealthy and fashionable a woman as Lady Eustace could show so much
friendship to a governess. "Have you seen Frank lately?" said Lady
Eustace, referring to her cousin the barrister.
"Not for ever so long," said Lucy with her cheeriest smile.
"He is not going to prove a false knight?" asked Lady Eustace, in her
lowest whisper.
"I don't know that Mr. Greystock is much given to knighthood at all," said
Lucy, "unless it is to being made Sir Francis by his party."
"Nonsense, my dear; as if I didn't know. I suppose Lady Fawn has been
interfering, like an old cat as she is.
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