was an
effective background. The one flaunted the sweet insolence of youth,
health, colour, beauty; of the bud just burst into full flower. The
other wore the stamp of care, of the much knowledge wherein is much
sorrow, and in her eyes dwelled the ghosts of dead years. She herself
looked like a ghost-dressed in white pique, which of itself drew
the colour from her white face and pale lips and mass of faint
straw-coloured hair, the pallor of all which was accentuated by the red
spots on her cheeks and her violet eyes.

I saw that something had occurred to vex her.

"Before we go," I said, "I should like a word with you. Carlotta will
not mind."

We went into the dining-room. I took her hand which was cold, in spite
of the July warmth.

"Well, my dear," said I. "What do you think of my young savage from Asia
Minor?"

Judith laughed--I am sure not naturally.

"Is that all you wanted to say to me?"

She withdrew her hand, and tidied her hair in the mirror of the
overmantel.

"I think she is a most uninteresting young woman. I am disappointed.
I had anticipated something original. I had looked forward to
some amusement. But, really, my dear Marcus, she is _bete a
pleurer_--weepingly stupid."

"She certainly can weep," said I.

"Oh, can she?" said Judith, as if the announcement threw some light on
Carlotta's character. "And when she cries, I suppose you, like a man,
give in and let her have her own way?" And Judith laughed again.

"My dear Judith," said I; "you have no idea of the wholesome discipline
at Lingfield Terrace."

Suddenly with one of her disconcerting changes of front, she turned and
caught me by the coat-lappels.

"Marcus dear, I have been so lonely this week. When are you coming to
see me?"

"We'll have a whole day out on Sunday," said I.

As I walked down the stairs with Carlotta, I reflected that Judith had
not accounted for the red spots.

"I like her," said Carlotta. "She is a nice old lady."

"Old lady! What on earth do you mean?" I was indeed startled. "She is a
young woman."

"Pouf!" cried Carlotta. "She is forty."

"She is no such thing," I cried. "She is years younger than I."

"She would not tell me."

"You asked her age?"

"Oh, ye-es," said Carlotta. "I was very polite. I first asked if she was
married. She said yes. Then I asked how her husband was. She said she
didn't know. That was funny. Why does she not know, Seer Marcous?"

"Never mind," said I, "go on telling