ted to follow, was represented by a courteous note of
apology. She was not well that evening, and she begged to be excused.

"This is a great disappointment," Mrs. Romsey said to her husband. "You
would have been charmed with Mrs. Norman--highly-bred, accomplished, a
perfect lady. And she leaves us to-morrow. The departure will not be an
early one; and I shall find an opportunity, my dear, of introducing you
to my friend and her sweet little Kitty."

Mr. Romsey looked interested for a moment, when he first heard Mrs.
Norman's name. After that, he slowly stirred his tea, and seemed to be
thinking, instead of listening to his wife.

"Have you made the lady's acquaintance here?" he inquired.

"Yes--and I hope I have made a friend for life," Mrs. Romsey said with
enthusiasm.

"And so do I," Lady Myrie added.

Mr. Romsey went on with his inquiries.

"Is she a handsome woman?"

Both the ladies answered the question together. Lady Myrie described
Mrs. Norman, in one dreadful word, as "Classical." By comparison with
this, Mrs. Romsey's reply was intelligible. "Not even illness can spoil
her beauty!"

"Including the headache she has got to-night?" Mr. Romsey suggested.

"Don't be ill-natured, dear! Mrs. Norman is here by the advice of one of
the first physicians in London; she has suffered under serious troubles,
poor thing."

Mr. Romsey persisted in being ill-natured. "Connected with her husband?"
he asked.

Lady Myrie entered a protest. She was a widow; and it was notorious
among her friends that the death of her husband had been the happiest
event in her married life. But she understood her duty to herself as a
respectable woman.

"I think, Mr. Romsey, you might have spared that cruel allusion," she
said with dignity.

Mr. Romsey apologized. He had his reasons for wishing to know something
more about Mrs. Norman; he proposed to withdraw his last remark, and to
put his inquiries under another form. Might he ask his wife if anybody
had seen _Mr._ Norman?

"No."

"Or heard of him?"

Mrs. Romsey answered in the negative once more, and added a question on
her own account. What did all this mean?

"It means," Lady Myrie interposed, "what we poor women are all exposed
to--scandal." She had not yet forgiven Mr. Romsey's allusion, and she
looked at him pointedly as she spoke. There are some impenetrable men on
whom looks produce no impression. Mr. Romsey was one of them. He turned
to his wife, and said, quietl