three months, would swallow up all the nurse had earned; for Edmund would
never contribute a farthing. Poor Anastasia! And yet Netta felt angrily
toward her for wishing to desert them.

"For of course I shall take her home--in March. We shall all be going
then," she said to herself with an emphasis, almost a passion, which yet
was full of misgiving.

Suddenly, just as she had returned by a steep path to the dilapidated
terrace on the north side of the house--a sound of horses' feet and
wheels. Evidently a carriage--a caller. Netta's pulse fluttered. She ran
into the house by a side door, and up to her room, where she smoothed
her hair anxiously, and lightly powdered her face. There was no time to
change her dress, but she took out a feather boa which she kept for great
occasions, and prepared to descend with dignity. Oh the stairs she met
Mrs. Dixon, who announced "Lady Tatham."

"Find Mr. Melrose, please."

"Oh, he's there, Ma'am, awready."

Netta entered the drawing-room to see her husband pacing up and-down
before a strange lady, who sat in one of the crimson armchairs, entirely
at her ease.

"So this is your wife, Edmund," said Lady Tatham, as she rose.

"It is. You'll make mock of her no doubt--as you do of me."

"Nonsense! I never make mock of anybody," said a musical voice, rich
however through all its music in a rather formidable significance. The
owner of it turned toward Netta.

"I hope, Mrs. Melrose, that you will like Cumbria?"

Netta, accustomed to Edmund's "queerness," and determined to hold her
own, settled herself deliberately opposite her visitor, and was soon
complaining in her shrill voice of the loneliness of the place and the
damp of the climate. Melrose never once looked at his wife. He was
paler than usual, with an eager combative aspect, quite new to Netta. He
seemed for once to be unsure of his ground--both to expect attack, even
to provoke it--and to shrink from it. His eyes were fixed upon Lady
Tatham, and followed her every movement.

Attention was certainly that lady's due; and it failed her rarely. She
had beauty--great beauty; and a personality that refused to be
overlooked. Her dress showed in equal measure contempt for mere fashion,
and a close study of effect. The lines of her long cloak of dull blue
cloth, with its garnishings of sable, matched her stately slenderness
well; and the close-fitting cap over the coiled hair conveyed the same
impression of something perfectly