'Fancy!' exclaimed Lady Aurora; but she instantly obtained the Princess's address from Hyacinth, and made a note of it in a small, shabby book. She mentioned that the card the Princess had given her in Camberwell proved to contain no address, and Hyacinth recognised that vagary—the Princess was so off-hand. Then she said, hesitating a little, 'Does she really care for the poor?'
'If she doesn't,' the young man replied, 'I can't imagine what interest she has in pretending to.'
'If she does, she's very remarkable—she deserves great honour.'
'You really care; why is she more remarkable than you?' Hyacinth demanded.
'Oh, it's very different—she's so wonderfully attractive!' Lady Aurora replied, making, recklessly, the only allusion to the oddity of her own appearance in which Hyacinth was destined to hear her indulge. She became conscious of it the moment she had spoken, and said, quickly, to turn it off, 'I should like to talk with her, but I'm rather afraid. She's tremendously clever.'
'Ah, what she is you'll find out when you know her!' Hyacinth sighed, expressively.
His hostess looked at him a little, and then, vaguely, exclaimed, 'How very interesting!' The next moment she continued, 'She might do so many other things; she might charm the world.'
'She does that, whatever she does,' said Hyacinth, smiling. 'It's all by the way; it needn't interfere.'
'That's what I mean, that most other people would be content—beautiful as she is. There's great merit, when you give up something.'
