n, and already Luke was just as he had always
been: a correct, well-born English gentleman, perfect in manner,
perfect in attitude and bearing, under whatever circumstances Fate
might choose to place him.

Mr. Dobson spoke to him, and he at once followed his friend and
solicitor across the body of the court room to the row of reserved
chairs in front of the crowd.

A whisper went round the room, and Louisa with cool indifference
turned to greet those among the crowd whom she had recognized as
acquaintances and friends. Some were sitting, others standing back
against the walls in the rear. Lady Ducies was there, excited and
over-dressed, with a large hat that obstructed the view of a
masculine-looking woman who sat immediately behind her, and who seemed
quite prepared to do battle against the obstruction.

Farther on sat the Countess of Flintshire, novelist and playwright,
eager and serious, note-book in hand and a frown between her brows,
denoting thought and concentration of purpose. She bowed gravely to
Louisa, and contrived to attract Luke's attention, so that he turned
toward her, and she was able to note carefully in indelible pencil in
a tiny note-book that a murderer about to meet his just fate may
bestow an infinity of care on the niceties of his own toilet.

(N. B. The next play written by the Countess of Flintshire, better
known to the playgoing public as Maria Annunziata, had an assassin for
its principal hero. But the play found no favour with actor-managers,
and though it subsequently enjoyed some popularity in the provinces,
it was never performed on the London stage.)

Louisa looked on all these people with eyes that dwelt with strange
persistency on trivial details: the Countess of Flintshire's
note-book, Lady Ducies' hat, the masculine attire of the militant
suffragette in the rear--all these minor details impressed themselves
upon her memory. In after years she could always recall the vision of
the court room, with its drabby background to a sea of ridiculous
faces.

For they all seemed ridiculous to her--all these people--in their
obvious eager agitation: they had pushed one another and jostled and
fought their way into this small, stuffy room, the elegant ladies with
their scent bottles, the men about town with their silk hats and
silver-topped canes: they were all ready to endure acute physical
discomfort for the sake of witnessing the harrowing sight of one of
their own kind being pilloried