The Time of Roses by L.T. Meade

The Sharstons and Sir John Wallis were enjoying themselves very much at Aylmer's Court. Mrs. Aylmer exerted herself to be specially agreeable. She could, when she liked, put aside her affected manner: she could open out funds of unexpected knowledge: she at least knew her own country well: she took her guests to all sorts of places of local interest: she had the best of the neighbours to dine in the evenings: she had good music and pleasant recitations and round games for the young folks, and dancing on more than one occasion in the great hall. The time passed on wings, and the three guests thoroughly enjoyed themselves.

Both Trevor and Bertha were greatly responsible for this happy state of things. Bertha, having quickly discovered that Kitty would not betray her secret, resumed that manner which had always made her popular. Bertha, in reality one of the most selfish women who ever lived -- who had wrecked more lives than one in the course of her unscrupulous career -- could be to all appearance the most absolutely unselfish. In great things she was selfish to the point of cruelty; in little things she completely forgot herself. So day after day, by tact, by apparent kindness, by much cleverness, she led the conversation into the brightest channels. She suggested, without seeming to suggest, this and that way of passing the time. She was always ready to play anybody's accompaniment or any amount of dance music: to lead the games: to promote the sports. Kitty could not help owning that she was charming. Now and then, it is true, she sighed to herself and wished that she could forget that dark spot in Bertha's past.