They were all of a class essentially different from that in which she had been brought up; and, moreover, Mrs.
Val was not content to allow Gertrude into her set without ruling over her, or at any rate patronizing her.

Gertrude had borne with them all for her husband's sake; and was contented to do so yet for a while longer, but she thought in her heart that she would be able to draw some consolation from her husband's misfortune if it should be the means of freeing her from Mrs.Val.
'Oh, my dear,' said Mrs.Val, throwing herself down into a sofa as though she were exhausted--'what a dreadful journey it is to you up here! How those poor horses will stand it this weather I don't know, but it nearly kills me; it does indeed.' The Tudors, as has been said, lived in one of the quiet streets of Westbournia, not exactly looking into Hyde Park, but very near to it; Mrs.Val, on the other hand, lived in Ebury Street, Pimlico; her house was much inferior to that of the Tudors; it was small, ill built, and afflicted with all the evils which bad drainage and bad ventilation can produce; but then it was reckoned to be within the precincts of Belgravia, and was only five minutes' walk from Buckingham Palace.

Mrs.Val, therefore, had fair ground for twitting her dear friend with living so far away from the limits of fashion.

'You really must come down somewhat nearer to the world; indeed you must, my dear,' said the Hon.

Mrs.Val.
'We are thinking of moving; but then we are talking of going to St.John's Wood, or Islington,' said Gertrude, wickedly.
'Islington!' said the Honourable Mrs.Val, nearly fainting.
'Is not Islington and St.Giles' the same place ?' asked the innocent Clem, with some malice, however, to counterbalance her innocence.
'O no!' said Lactimel.