"I am glad at last to be able to make your acquaintance, my dear," said Lady Midlothian; "very glad." But still Alice did not speak. "Your aunt, Lady Macleod, is one of my oldest friends, and I have heard her speak of you very often."
"And Lady Macleod has often spoken to me of your ladyship," said Alice.
"Then we know each other's names," said the Countess; "and it will be well that we should be acquainted with each other's persons. I am becoming an old woman, and if I did not learn to know you now, or very shortly, I might never do so."
Alice could not help thinking that even under those circumstances neither might have had, so far as that was concerned, much cause of sorrow, but she did not say so. She was thinking altogether of Lady Midlothian's letter to her, and trying to calculate whether or no it would be well for her to rush away at once to the subject. That Lady Midlothian would mention the letter, Alice felt well assured; and when could it be better mentioned than now, in Glencora's presence,--when no other person was near them to listen to her? "You are very kind," said Alice.

"I am glad at last to be able to make your acquaintance, my dear," said Lady Midlothian; "Your aunt, Lady Macleod, is one of my oldest friends, and I have heard her speak of you very often."
"And Lady Macleod has often spoken to me of your ladyship," said Alice.
"Then it is as well that we should be acquainted with each other," said the Countess. "I am becoming an old woman, and if I do not get to know you soon, I might never do so."
Alice could not help thinking that in that case neither might feel much sorrow; but she did not say so. She was wondering whether to speak of Lady Midlothian's letter to her. She was sure that Lady Midlothian would mention the letter; and it would be better now, in Glencora's presence.
"You are very kind," she said.
