Mirah—you can always say something descriptive. What do you think of Mrs Grandcourt?"
"I think she is like the Princess of Eboli in Don Carlos," said Mirah, with a quick intensity. She was pursuing an association in her own mind not intelligible to her hearers—an association with a certain actress as well as the part she represented.
"Your comparison is a riddle for me, my dear," said Mrs Meyrick, smiling.
"You said that Mrs Grandcourt was tall and fair," continued Mirah, slightly paler. "That is quite true."
Mrs Meyrick's quick eye and ear detected something unusual, but immediately explained it to herself. Fine ladies had often wounded Mirah by caprices of manner and intention.
"Mrs Grandcourt had thought of having lessons from Mirah," she said, turning to Anna. "But many have talked of having lessons, and then have found no time. Fashionable ladies have too much work to do."
And the chat went on without further insistance on the Princess of Eboli. That comparison escaped Mirah's lips under the urgency of a pang unlike anything she had felt before. The conversation from the beginning had revived unpleasant
