o be
the heiress of Lady Ogram's wealth. By some undercurrent, no doubt of
servant's-hall origin, the name of Lord Dymchurch had come into
circulation, and the editor of the _Express_ ventured to inquire of
Lashmar whether it was true that Miss Tomalin had rejected an offer of
marriage from this peer. Perfectly true, answered Dyce, in his discreet
way; and he smiled as one who, if he would, could expatiate on the
interesting topic.

He saw Mrs. Gallantry, and from her learnt--without betraying his own
ignorance--that callers at Rivenoak were received by Lady Amys, from
whom only the barest information concerning Lady Ogram's illness was
obtainable. Neither Miss Tomalin nor Miss Bride had been seen by anyone.

The day of the funeral arrived; the hour appointed was half-past two.
All the morning rain fell, and about mid-day began a violent thunder
storm, which lasted for an hour. Then the sky began to clear, and as
Lashmar started for Rivenoak be saw a fine rainbow across great sullen
clouds, slowly breaking upon depths of azure. The gates of the park
stood wide open, and many carriages were moving up the drive.
Afterwards, it became known that no member of the Ogram family had been
present on this occasion. Half-a-dozen friends of the deceased came
down from London, but the majority of the funeral guests belonged to
Hollingford and the immediate neighbourhood. In no sense was it a
distinguished gathering; mere curiosity accounted for the presence of
nearly all who came.

Lashmar had paid his respects to Lady Amys, who received him frigidly,
and was looking about for faces that he knew, when a familiar voice
spoke at his shoulder; he turned, and saw Mrs. Toplady.

"Have you come down this morning?" he asked, as they shook hands.

"Yesterday. I want to see you, and we had better arrange the meeting
now. Where are you staying in Hollingford? An hotel, isn't it?"

She spoke in a low voice. Notwithstanding her decorous gravity, Lashmar
saw a ghost of the familiar smile hovering about her lips. He gave his
address, and asked at what hour Mrs. Toplady thought of coming.

"Let us say half-past five. There's an up train just before eight,
which I must catch."

She nodded, and moved away. Again Lashmar looked about him, and he met
the eye of Mr. Kerchever, who came forward with friendly aspect.

"Dreadfully sudden, the end, Mr. Lashmar!"

"Dreadfully so, indeed," Dyce responded, in mortuary tones.

"You were present a