If I could be a recluse anywhere, it would be amongst just such delicious surroundings.' Without, twilight shades were gathering; within, there was only the light of a fire and a shaded lamp upon the tea table; there was just light enough for the two women to see each other's faces, and the change which time had wrought there.
Never did womanhood in advanced years offer a more striking contrast than that presented by the woman of fashion and the recluse.

Lady Maulevrier was almost as handsome in the winter of her days as she had been when life was in its spring.

The tall, slim figure, erect as a dart, the delicately chiselled features and alabaster complexion, the soft silvery hair, the perfect hand, whiter and more transparent than the hand of girlhood, the stately movements and bearing, all combined to make Lady Maulevrier a queen among woman.

Her brocade gown of a deep shade of red, with a border of dark sable on cuffs and collar, suggested a portrait by Velasquez.

She wore no ornaments except the fine old Brazilian diamonds which flashed and sparkled upon her slender fingers.
If Lady Maulevrier looked like a picture in the Escurial, Lady Kirkbank resembled a caricature in _La Vie Parisienne_.