ight be disposed to revenge herself in
every way that would occur to an angry woman of small refinement; she
might make life in London impossible for him.

He sat down and penned a reply, saying that he would call upon Mrs.
Damerel at five to-morrow. But he did not post this. After all, a day's
delay would only irritate him; better to go this afternoon, in which
case it was not worth while sending an answer.

It seemed to him very probable that Nancy would be with her aunt, to
confront him. If so,--if indeed she were going to act like any coarse
woman, with no regard but for her own passions and Interests,--he would
at least have the consolation of expelling from his mind, at once and
for ever, her haunting image.

Mrs. Damerel, who during the past twelve months had changed her abode
half-a-dozen times, now occupied private lodgings in Tyburnia. On his
admittance, Tarrant sat alone for nearly five minutes in a pretentiously
furnished room--just the room in which he had expected to find Nancy's
relative; the delay and the surroundings exasperated his nervous mood,
so that, when the lady entered, he behaved with slighter courtesy than
became his breeding. Nothing in her appearance surprised or interested
him. There was a distant facial resemblance to Nancy, natural in her
mother's sister; there was expensive, though not particularly tasteful
dress, and a gait, a manner, distinguishable readily enough from what
they aimed at displaying--the grace of a woman born to social privilege.

It would be a humiliating conversation; Tarrant braced himself to go
through with it. He stood stiffly while his hostess regarded him with
shrewd eyes. She had merely bent her head.

'Will you sit down, Mr. Tarrant?'

He took a chair without speaking.

'I think you know me by name?'

'I have heard of a Mrs. Damerel.'

'Some time ago, I suppose? And in that you have the advantage of me. I
heard your name yesterday for the first time.'

It was the sharp rejoinder of a woman of the world. Tarrant began to
perceive that he had to do with intelligence, and would not be allowed
to perform his share of the talking _de haut en bas._

'In what can I be of service to you?' he asked with constrained
civility.

'You can tell me, please, what sort of connection there is between you
and my niece, Miss. Lord.'

Mrs. Damerel was obviously annoyed by his demeanour, and made little
effort to disguise her feeling. She gave him the look of one who