argument, and talked for talking's sake. She
knew that her companion was not listening.

"It's four o'clock," exclaimed Lady Ogram presently. "There may be an
accident with the brougham. Leggatt sometimes drives very carelessly--"
no more prudent coachman existed--"and the state of the roads about
here is perfectly scandalous"--they were as good roads as any in
England. "What noise was that?"

"I heard nothing."

"I've often noticed that you are decidedly dull of hearing. Has it
always been so? You ought to consult a what are the men called who see
to one's ears?"

Lady Ogram was growing less amiable, and with much ado Constance
restrained herself from a tart reply. Three minutes more, and the
atmosphere of the room would have become dangerously electric. But
before two minutes had elapsed, the door opened, and a colourless
domestic voice announced:

"Miss Tomalin."

There entered very much the kind of figure that Constance had expected
to see; a young lady something above the middle height, passably, not
well, dressed, moving quickly and not ungracefully, but with
perceptible lack of that self-possession which is the social
testimonial. She wore a new travelling costume, fawn-coloured, with a
slightly inappropriate hat (too trimmy), and brown shoes which
over-asserted themselves. Her collar was of the upright sort, just
turned down at the corners; her tie, an ill-made little bow of red.
About her neck hung a pair of eye-glasses; at her wrist were attached a
silver pencil-case and a miniature ivory paper-knife. The face
corresponded fairly well with its photographic presentment so long
studied by Lady Ogram, and so well remembered by Constance Bride; its
colour somewhat heightened and the features mobile under nervous
stress, it offered a more noticeable resemblance to that ancestral
portrait in the dining-room.

Lady Ogram had risen; she took a tremulous step or two from the throne,
and spoke in a voice much more senile than its wont.

"I am glad to see you, May--glad to see you! This is my friend and
secretary, Miss Bride, whom I mentioned to you."

Constance and the new-comer bowed, hesitated, shook hands. Miss Tomalin
had not yet spoken; she was smiling timidly, and casting quick glances
about the room.

"You had an easy journey, I hope," said Miss Bride, aware that the old
lady was sinking breathless and feeble into her chair.

"Oh, it was nothing at all."

Miss Tomalin's utterance was not markedly