the revelation surprised and rather
disgusted him. He wondered why Constance made it thus needlessly, and,
as it was, defiantly.

"I should be very stupid and conventional," he answered, with his
indulgent smile, "if such things affected me one way or another."

"I don't mind telling you that, when I first knew about it, I wished
Mrs. Shufflebotham and her shop at the bottom of the sea." Constance
laughed. "But I soon got over that. I happen to have been born with a
good deal of pride, and, when I began to think about myself--it was
only a few years ago--I found it necessary to ask what I really had to
be proud of. There was nothing very obvious--no wealth, no rank, no
achievements. It grew clear to me that I had better be proud of _being_
proud, and a good way to that end was to let people know I cared
nothing for their opinion. One gets a good deal of satisfaction out of
it."

Lashmar listened in a puzzled and uneasy frame of mind. Theoretically,
it should have pleased him to hear a woman talking thus, but the actual
effect upon him was repellent. He did not care to look at the speaker,
and it became difficult for him to keep up the conversation. Luckily,
at this moment the first luncheon bell sounded.

"Lady Ogram has returned," said Constance. They had wandered to the
rear of the house, and thus did not know of the arrival of the
carriage. "Shall we go in?"

She led the way into a small drawing-room, and excused herself for
leaving him alone. A moment later, there appeared a page, who conducted
him to a chamber where he could prepare for luncheon. When he came out
again into the hall, he found Lady Ogram standing there, reading a
letter. Seen from behind, her masses of elaborately dressed hair gave
her the appearance of a young woman; when she turned at the sound of a
footfall, the presentation of her parchment visage came as a shock. She
looked keenly at the visitor, and seemed to renew her approval of him.

"How do you do?" was the curt greeting, as she gave her hand. "Have you
been over the mill?"

"Greatly to my satisfaction, Lady Ogram."

"I'm glad to hear it. We'll talk about that presently. I'm expecting a
gentleman to lunch whom you'll like to meet--Mr. Breakspeare, the
editor of our Liberal paper. Ah, here he comes."

A servant had just opened the hall door, and there entered a slight man
in a long, heavy overcoat.

"Well, Mr. Breakspeare!" exclaimed the hostess, with some heartiness.
"Why mus