s only the inevitable reaction which followed the subsidence of
anxiety about the girl, after her own resolution had set that anxiety at
rest. She threw open the door and made one of her sudden appearances at
the boudoir. Even in the fervent outpouring of her affection, there was
still the inherent abruptness of manner which so strongly marked Lady
Lydiard's character in all the relations of life.

"Did I give you a kiss, this morning?" she asked, when Isabel rose to
receive her.

"Yes, my Lady," said the girl, with her charming smile.

"Come, then, and give me a kiss in return. Do you love me? Very well,
then, treat me like your mother. Never mind 'my lady' this time. Give me
a good hug!"

Something in those homely words, or something perhaps in the look that
accompanied them, touched sympathies in Isabel which seldom showed
themselves on the surface. Her smiling lips trembled, the bright tears
rose in her eyes. "You are too good to me," she murmured, with her head
on Lady Lydiard's bosom. "How can I ever love you enough in return?"

Lady Lydiard patted the pretty head that rested on her with such filial
tenderness. "There! there!" she said, "Go back and play with Tommie, my
dear. We may be as fond of each other as we like; but we mustn't cry.
God bless you! Go away--go away!"

She turned aside quickly; her own eyes were moistening, and it was part
of her character to be reluctant to let Isabel see it. "Why have I made
a fool of myself?" she wondered, as she approached the drawing-room
door. "It doesn't matter. I am all the better for it. Odd, that Mr.
Hardyman should have made me feel fonder of Isabel than ever!"

With those reflections she re-entered the drawing-room--and suddenly
checked herself with a start. "Good Heavens!" she exclaimed irritably,
"how you frightened me! Why was I not told you were here?"

Having left the drawing-room in a state of solitude, Lady Lydiard on her
return found herself suddenly confronted with a gentleman, mysteriously
planted on the hearth-rug in her absence. The new visitor may be rightly
described as a gray man. He had gray hair, eyebrows, and whiskers; he
wore a gray coat, waistcoat, and trousers, and gray gloves. For
the rest, his appearance was eminently suggestive of wealth and
respectability and, in this case, appearances were really to be trusted.
The gray man was no other than Lady Lydiard's legal adviser, Mr. Troy.

"I regret, my Lady, that I should have been so un