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It was a small party, got up rather in a hurry by Lady

Narborough, who was a very clever woman with what Lord Henry used

to describe as the remains of really remarkable ugliness. She had

proved an excellent wife to one of our most tedious ambassadors,

and having buried her husband properly in a marble mausoleum,

which she had herself designed, and married off her daughters to

some rich, rather elderly men, she devoted herself now to the

pleasures of French fiction, French cookery, and French esprit

when she could get it.