ed the struggle, bade a last farewell to the pride of other
days, and accepted the position considerately and delicately offered to
him in Lady Lydiard's house. He had now no near relations living, and
he had never made many friends. In the intervals of occupation he led a
lonely life in his little room. It was a matter of secret wonder among
the women in the servants' hall, considering his personal advantages and
the opportunities which must surely have been thrown in his way, that
he had never tempted fortune in the character of a married man. Robert
Moody entered into no explanations on that subject. In his own sad and
quiet way he continued to lead his own sad and quiet life. The women all
failing, from the handsome housekeeper downward, to make the smallest
impression on him, consoled themselves by prophetic visions of his
future relations with the sex, and predicted vindictively that "his time
would come."

"Well," said Lady Lydiard, "and what have you done?"

"Your Ladyship seemed to be anxious about the dog," Moody answered, in
the low tone which was habitual to him. "I went first to the veterinary
surgeon. He had been called away into the country; and--"

Lady Lydiard waved away the conclusion of the sentence with her hand.
"Never mind the surgeon. We must find somebody else. Where did you go
next?"

"To your Ladyship's lawyer. Mr. Troy wished me to say that he will have
the honor of waiting on you--"

"Pass over the lawyer, Moody. I want to know about the painter's widow.
Is it true that Mrs. Tollmidge and her family are left in helpless
poverty?"

"Not quite true, my Lady. I have seen the clergyman of the parish, who
takes an interest in the case--"

Lady Lydiard interrupted her steward for the third time. "Did you
mention my name?" she asked sharply.

"Certainly not, my Lady. I followed my instructions, and described you
as a benevolent person in search of cases of real distress. It is quite
true that Mr. Tollmidge has died, leaving nothing to his family. But the
widow has a little income of seventy pounds in her own right."

"Is that enough to live on, Moody?" her Ladyship asked.

"Enough, in this case, for the widow and her daughter," Moody answered.
"The difficulty is to pay the few debts left standing, and to start the
two sons in life. They are reported to be steady lads; and the family is
much respected in the neighborhood. The clergyman proposes to get a few
influential names to begin with