ish to see the Trianon? We shall be late."

"Yes, I do wish to see it. But you need not speak in that tone: it was
not my fault that we met her."

He answered never a syllable. His lips were compressed to pain, and his
face was hectic; but he would not be drawn into reproaching his wife by
so much as a word, for the sort of taste she was displaying. The manner
in which he had treated Miss Ashton and her family was ever in his mind,
more or less, in all its bitter, humiliating disgrace. The worst part of
it to Val was, that there could be no reparation.

The following day Lord Hartledon and his wife took their departure from
Paris; and if anything could have imparted especial gratification on his
arriving in London at the hired house, it was to find that his wife's
mother was not in it. Val had come home against his will; he had not
wished to be in London that season; rather would he have buried himself
and his haunting sense of shame on the tolerant Continent; and he
certainly had not wished his wife to make her debut in a small hired
house. When he let his own, nothing could have been further from his
thoughts than marriage. As to this house--Lady Kirton had told her
daughter she would be disappointed in it; but when Maude saw its
dimensions, its shabby entrance, its want of style altogether, she was
dismayed. "And after that glowing advertisement!" she breathed
resentfully. It was one of the smallest houses facing the Green Park.

Hedges came forward with an apology from the countess-dowager. An apology
for not invading their house and inflicting her presence upon them
uninvited! A telegraphic despatch from Lord Kirton had summoned her to
Ireland on the previous day; and Val's face grew bright as he heard it.

"What was the matter, Hedges?" inquired his mistress. "I'm sure my
brother would not telegraph unless it was something."

"The message didn't say, my lady. It was just a few words, asking her
ladyship to go off by the first train, but giving no reason."

"I wonder she went, then," observed Val to his wife, as they looked into
the different rooms. But Maude did not wonder: she knew how anxious her
mother was to be on good terms with her eldest son, from whom she
received occasional supplies. Rather would she quarrel with the whole
world than with him.

"I think it a good thing she has gone, Maude," said he. "There certainly
would not have been room for her and for us in this house."

"And so do I," answe