Hetherington always suspected, would be
by no means indisposed to accept him.
Hitherto the difference in their social status
had rendered any such proceeding
thoroughly unlikely; a tutor, or a, what did
they call it?— reporter to a newspaper,
could scarcely have the impertinence to
propose for an earl's sister; but, as a member
of parliament, the man enjoyed a position
in society, and nothing could be said
against him on that score. There was
Lady Violet Magnier, Lord Haughton-forest's
daughter. Well, Mr. Magnier sold
ribbons, and pocket-handkerchiefs, and
things, in the City; but then he was member
for some place, and was very rich, and
it was looked upon as a very good match
for Lady Violet. Mr. Joyce was just the man
to assert himself in a highly disagreeable
manner; he always held views about the
supremacy of intellect, and that kind of
rubbish; and the more he kept away from
them the less chance he would have of
exercising any influence over Lady Caroline
Mansergh.

It may be imagined, then, that her ladyship
was not best pleased when her sister-in-law
informed her that she had had a
telegram from Walter Joyce, asking whether
he might come down to Westhope to see
her on special business, and that she
"supposed Margaret had no objection."
Margaret had strong objections, but did not
think it politic to say so just then, so merely
intimated that she would be happy to see
Mr. Joyce whenever he chose to come.
The tone in which this intimation was
conveyed was so little pleasing to Lady
Caroline that she took care to impress on her
sister-in-law the fact that Joyce's visit was
to her, Lady Caroline, and that she had
merely mentioned his coming as a matter
of politeness to her hostess, which did not
tend to increase Lady Hetherington's
regard for Walter Joyce.

But the bienséances were never
neglected on account of any personal feeling,
and when Joyce arrived at the station he
recognised the familiar livery on the
platform, and found a carriage in waiting to
convey him to Westhope. During the drive
he occupied himself in thinking over the
wondrous changes which had taken place
since his first visit to that neighbourhood,
when, with a wardrobe provided by old
Jack Byrne, and a scanty purse supplied
from the same source, he had come down in
a dependant position, not knowing any of
those amongst whom his lot in life was to
be passed, and without the least idea as to
the kind of treatment he might expect at
their hands. That treatment, he knew,
would have been very different had it not
been for Lady Caroline Mansergh. But
for her counsel, too, he would have suffered
himself to have remained completely
crushed and vanquished by Marian
Ashurst's conduct, would have subsided into a
mere drudge without energy or hope. Yes,
all the good in his life he owed to the
friendship, to the kindly promptings of that
sweetest and best of women. He felt that
thoroughly, and yet it never struck him
that in asking her to advise him as to his
marriage with some one else, he was
committing, to say the least of it, a solecism.
The axiom which declares that the cleverest
men have the smallest amount of common
sense, has a broader foundation than is
generally believed.

On his arrival at Westhope, Joyce was
informed by the butler that Lord
Hetherington had gone round the Home Farm
with the bailiff, and that her ladyship was
out driving, but that they would both be
home to luncheon, when they expected the
pleasure of his company; meanwhile would
he walk into the library, where Lady
Caroline Mansergh would join him? He went
into the library, and had just looked round
the room and viewed his old associations,
glanced at the desk where he had sat working
away for so many hours at a stretch,
at the big tomes whence he had extracted
the subject-matter for that great historical
work, still, alas! incomplete, at the line
of Shakespearean volumes which formed
Lady Caroline Mansergh's private reading,
when the door opened, and Lady Caroline
came in. Country air had not had its
usual beneficial effect, Joyce thought as he
looked at her; for her face was very pale,
and her manner nervous and odd. Yet she
shook him warmly by the hand, and bade
him be seated in her old cheery tone.

"It is very good of you to let me come
down here, breaking in upon the rest which
I have no doubt you want, and boring you
with my own private affairs," said Joyce,
seating himself in the window-sill close by
the arm-chair which Lady Caroline had
taken.

"It is not very good of you to talk
conventionalities, and to pretend that you
don't know I have a deep interest in all
that concerns you," replied Lady
Caroline.

"I have every reason to know it, and
my last words were merely a foolish
utterance of society-talk——"