were no
small tables anywhere. Mr. Cardew was glad of that--he detested small
tables; but there was a harp standing close to the magnificent grand
piano, and several music stands, and a violin case on a chair near
by.

The furniture of the room was covered with a cool, fresh chintz. In
short, it was a charming room, quite different from the rooms at
Meredith Manor, which, of course, were old and magnificent and
stately; but it had a refreshing, wholesome look about it which, in
spite of himself, Mr. Cardew appreciated.

He had just taken in the room and its belongings when the door was
opened and a lady of about thirty-five years of age entered. She was
dressed very simply in a long dress made in a sort of Empire fashion.
The color was pale blue, which suited her calm, fair face, her large,
hazel-brown eyes, and her rich chestnut hair to perfection. She came
forward swiftly.

"I am Mrs. Ward," she said, and held out her hand.

Mr. Cardew considered himself a connoisseur as regards all women, and
he was immediately impressed by a certain quality in that face: a
mingling of sweetness and power, of extreme gentleness and extreme
determination. There was a lofty expression in the eyes, too, and
round the mouth, which further appealed to him; and the hands of the
lady were perfect--they were white, somewhat long, with tapering
fingers and well-kept nails. There was one signet ring on the left
hand, worn as a guard to the wedding-ring--that was all.

Mr. Cardew was a keen observer, and he noted these things at a
glance.

"I have come to talk to you, Mrs. Ward," he said; "and, if you will
forgive me, I should like to be quite frank with you."

"There is nothing I desire better," said Mrs. Ward in her exceedingly
high-bred and sympathetic voice.

That voice reminded Cardew of Maggie Howland, and yet he felt at once
that it was infinitely superior to hers.

"Sit down, won't you, Mr. Cardew?" said Mrs. Ward, and she set him the
example by seating herself in a low chair as she spoke.

"I hope I am not taking up too much of your time," he said; "for, if
so, as I said to your servant, I can call again."

"By no means," said Mrs. Ward; "I have nothing whatever to do this
morning. I am, therefore, quite at your service. You will tell me what
you wish?" she said in that magnetic voice of hers.

"The fact is simply this," he said. "My friend Tristram, who is rector
of Meredith, in Warwickshire, is sending his two daught