could
not have borne herself more respectfully--at all events in language--if
he had been a member of the Cabinet; every word which fell from him she
found suggestive, illuminative, and seemed to treasure it in her mind.
After dinner, Dyce received from her his cue for drawing-room oratory;
he was led into large discourse, and Mrs. Toplady's eyes beamed the
most intelligent sympathy. None the less did roguery still lurk at the
corner of her lips, so that from time to time the philosopher fidgeted
a little, and asked himself uneasily what that smile meant.

At nine o'clock next morning, Lashmar and Constance sat down to
breakfast alone. Mrs. Toplady rarely showed herself much before noon.

"If the sky clears," said Constance, "Lady Ogram will drive at eleven,
and you are invited to accompany her."

"And you?" asked Dyce.

"I have work for two or three hours."

Lashmar chipped at an egg, a thoughtful smile upon his countenance.

"Can you tell me anything about Mrs. Toplady?" he inquired.

"Only what I have heard from Lady Ogram."

Constance sketched a biography. The lady had been twice married, first
in early youth to a man who had nothing, and who became phthisical;
during his illness they suffered from dire poverty and, at her
husband's death, the penniless widow received great kindness from Lady
Ogram, whose acquaintance she had made accidentally. Two years
afterwards, she married a northern manufacturer of more than twice her
age; an instance (remarked Miss Bride) of natural reaction. It chanced
that a Royal Personage, on a certain public occasion, became the guest
of the manufacturer, who had local dignities; and so well did Mrs.
Toplady play her part of hostess that Royalty deigned to count her
henceforth among its friends. Her husband would have received a title,
but an inopportune malady cut short his life. A daughter of the first
marriage still lived; she had wedded into the army, and was little
heard of. Mrs. Toplady, a widow unattached, took her ease in the world.

"She has seven or eight thousand a year," said Constance, "and spends
it all on herself. Naturally, she is a very polished and ornamental
person."

"Something more than that, I fancy," returned Dyce, musing.

"Oh, as Lady Ogram would say, she is not a fool."

Dyce smiled, and let the topic pass. He was enjoying his breakfast,
and, under this genial influence, presently felt moved to intimate
speech.

"You live very comfortably here, d