had _he_ to take orders upon himself?" and the pale
little eyes flashed with anger. "Who's Val Elster, that he should
interfere? I sent word by the servants that we wouldn't dine till nine."

"Mr. Elster is in his own house, madam; and--"

"In his own house!" raved Lady Kirton. "It's no house of his; it's his
brother's. And I wish I was his brother for a day only; I'd let Mr. Val
know what presumption comes to. Can't dinner be delayed?"

"I'm afraid not, my lady."

"Ugh!" snapped the countess-dowager. "Send up tea at once; and let
it be strong, with a great deal of green in it. And some rolled
bread-and-butter, and a little well-buttered toast."

Mirrable departed with the commands, more inclined to laugh at the
selfish old woman than to be angry. She remembered the countess-dowager
arriving on an unexpected visit some three or four years before, and
finding the old Lord Hartledon away and his wife ill in bed. She remained
three days, completely upsetting the house; so completely upsetting the
invalid Lady Hartledon, that the latter was glad to lend her a sum of
money to get rid of her.

Truth to say, Lady Kirton had never been a welcome guest at Hartledon;
had been shunned, in fact, and kept away by all sorts of _ruses_. The
only other visit she had paid the family, in Mirrable's remembrance, was
to the town-house, when the children were young. Poor little Val had been
taught by his nurse to look upon her as a "bogey;" went about in terror
of her; and her ladyship detecting the feeling, administered sly pinches
whenever they met. Perhaps neither of them had completely overcome the
antagonism from that time to this.

A scrambling sort of life had been Lady Kirton's. The wife of a very poor
and improvident Irish peer, who had died early, leaving her badly
provided for, her days had been one long scramble to make both ends meet
and avoid creditors. Now in Ireland, now on the Continent, now coming out
for a few brief weeks of fashionable life, and now on the wing to some
place of safety, had she dodged about, and become utterly unscrupulous.

There was a whole troop of children, who had been allowed to go to
the good or the bad very much in their own way, with little help or
hindrance from their mother. All the daughters were married now,
excepting Maude, mostly to German barons and French counts. One had
espoused a marquis--native country not clearly indicated; one an Italian
duke: but the marquis lived somewhere