'Yes,' Lady Wathin said, 'she has good looks to aid her.

Judging from what I hear and have seen, her thirst is for notoriety.

Sooner or later we shall have her making a noise, you may be certain.

Yes, she has the secret of dressing well--in the French style.' A simple newspaper report of the expedition of a Nileboat party could stir the Powers to take her up and turn her on their wheel in this manner.
But others of the sons and daughters of London were regretting her prolonged absence.

The great and exclusive Whitmonby, who had dined once at Lady Wathin's table, and vowed never more to repeat that offence to his patience, lamented bitterly to Henry Wilmers that the sole woman worthy of sitting at a little Sunday evening dinner with the cream of the choicest men of the time was away wasting herself in that insane modern chase of the picturesque! He called her a perverted Celimene.
Redworth had less to regret than the rest of her male friends, as he was receiving at intervals pleasant descriptive letters, besides manuscript sheets of ANTONIA'S new piece of composition, to correct the proofs for the press, and he read them critically, he thought.