As, in fact, she
burned the child's letter before she left her bedroom, she does not come
into the tale at all.
But the pensive Melusine, three years younger than Philippa, seven older
than Sanchia, may be reckoned with. She was also married, to a Mr. Gerald
Scales, the son of a baronet. He was not, however, to inherit the title,
for he had a brother, Sir Matthew, and frequent nephews. But his means
were ample for his rank and discreet amusements, and went further and did
more for him than prolific Sir Matthew's; for Melusine gave him no sons.
His circle of being, in and through which trailed with charming languor
his wife, was of more dappled sheen and of ampler circumference than that
of Bryanston Square. Having its centre in Kensington Gore, it reached to
Ranelagh on one side, to Maidenhead on the other. There was a riverside
villa down there, where Mrs. Scales gave parties in the summertime and was
punted about by flushed gentlemen in pink shirts. She was the tallest of
the five sisters, and the most graceful; near-sighted enough for
lorgnettes, an elegant young woman. She had an instinct for attitudes,
turns of the head, which were useful in _tete-a-tete_ conversations.
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