My journey was uneventful, and needs not to be detailed here.
During the writer's absence in stricken France, Miss Isabella Gayerson, who seemed as restless as himself, suddenly bethought herself to open her London house and fill it with guests.

It must be remembered that this lady was an heiress, and, if report be true, more than one needy nobleman offered her a title and that which he called his heart, only to meet with a cold refusal.

I who know her so well can fancy that these disinterested gentlemen hesitated to repeat the experiment.

It is vanity that too often makes a woman consent at last (though sometimes Love may awake and do it), and I think that Isabella was never vain.
"I have good reason to be without vanity," she once said in my hearing, but I do not know what she meant.

The remark, as I remember, was made in answer to Lucille, who happened to say that a woman can dress well without being vain, and laughingly gave Isabella as an example.
Isabella's chief reason in coming to London during the winter was a kind one--namely, to put a temporary end to an imprisonment in the country which was irksome to Lucille.