"Why, my goodness, my darling child,
I wonder how in the world I never asked
the question before! It has been in my
mind hundreds of times!"

Maud waited patiently with an attentive
face.

"How in the world, did you and Mr.
Levincourt find out that I was living here?
D'ye know, my dear pet, I am perfectly
astonished to remember that I was not
more astonished at the time! Can ye
understand that state of mind? It was all
such a whirl, such a sudden, unexpected
kind of thing altogether, that I suppose a
little wonder more or less didn't make much
difference!"

"Our coming straight to the place where
you lived, was a mere chance, Aunt Hilda.
We came here with merely a hope, and
not a very strong one, that we might get
your address from Mrs. Lockwood. And
even then, we should not have found you,
had not Uncle Charles's card been carried
up to Mrs. Lockwood with an inquiry for
Lady Tallis written on it. Otherwise, as
you are now Lady Gale, we should have
missed you, though you were so close to
us. But Mrs. Lockwood knew at once that
you were the person we were asking for."

"And did ye know Mrs. Lockwood?
Why now, just imagine her never mentioning
in the most distant manner, that she
had the smallest acquaintance with any of
the family! I declare it's most extraordinary!
And the times I have spoken to her
of my niece! For, my darling, I needn't
say that if we have been separated all
these years, it has not been from any
indifference on my part!"

Maud quietly explained that she had
never seen or known Mrs. Lockwood, but
that she had met her son at a country
house; and that he had spoken of Lady
Tallis, and of the manner in which he and
his mother had made her ladyship's
acquaintance.

"It's all perfectly true, my dear, every
syllable of it!" said Lady Tallis, with as
much solemnity of corroboration as though
Maud had expressed the gravest doubts of
Mr. Hugh Lockwood's veracity.

"Yes, aunt: I did not feel any doubt of
that," she answered.

"No, ye need not, child. An exceedingly
amiable and gentleman-like young
man he is. And his mother is a delightful
person. I called on her according to
promise, when I came to London. I was
staying in a boarding-house; and that's
what I would never advise any one I cared
for to do, the longest day they had to
live! Oh, upon my honour and word, the
dreariness and misery of the boarding-houses
I have been in, exceed description.
I thought I would find something like
society, but, oh dear me! the people you
have to put up with, are something
unspeakable! However, that wasn't what I
was going to tell ye. Well, I asked Mrs.
Lockwood, did she happen to know of
any respectable lodging in her neighbourhood.
For I was resolved to get quit of
boarding-houses altogether. And I wished
to be within hail of some human being
that would say a kind word to me once a
month, or so: for, indeed, child, I was very
lonely."

"Poor Aunt Hilda!" whispered Maud,
stroking Lady Tallis's thin hand.

"Oh indeed ye may say ' rich Aunt
Hilda,' now I have you, Maudie. Here,
let me put this footstool under your feet.
Nonsense, child, about 'troubling myself.'
You're not half as strong yet as you fancy
yourself. There! Well, so just fancy my
delight when she said that she would be
very glad to let the first floor of her own
house to a person that she knew! My
dear, I jumped at it. And here I am, and
extremely comfortable it is. And cheap.
For you know, my dear child, that he
keeps me shamefully short of money.
Sometimes I have much ado to get any at
all. Well, there, then, we won't say any
more on that score just now. But ye'll
like Mrs. Lockwood—oh indeed ye will!"

"Is she— I mean is her son at all like
her?"

"Not the very least bit in the world,"
rejoined Lady Tallis, with a sort of almost
triumphant emphasis. "Not one atom.
I never, in the whole course of my days,
saw a mother and son more entirely unlike
each other."

"Oh!"

"Entirely unlike each other. Why,
now, the young man— Hugh— is a strapping
handsome young fellow as you'd be
likely to meet in a long summer's day.
Isn't he?"

"Oh, yes."

"Oh, yes! Upon my honour, you don't
seem more than half to agree with me.
But I can tell you that if you don't think
Hugh Lockwood a remarkably fine young
man, you are more fastidious than the
girls used to be in my time. It may be
true that he hasn't quite the grand air.
And if you are as much of a Delaney as
your poor grandpapa, you may object to