ued Mrs. Dennant, with that
large frankness of intrusion upon doubtful subjects which may be made by
certain people in a certain way, "but, after all, one couldn't ask them
to meet anybody."

"No," the Connoisseur assented. "I used to know Foliot. Thousand pities.
They say she was a very pretty woman."

"Oh, not pretty!" said Mrs. Dennant! "more interestin than pretty, I
should say."

Shelton, who knew the lady slightly, noticed that they spoke of her
as in the past. He did not look towards Antonia; for, though a little
troubled at her presence while such a subject was discussed, he hated
his conviction that her face, was as unruffled as though the Foliots had
been a separate species. There was, in fact, a curiosity about her eyes,
a faint impatience on her lips; she was rolling little crumbs of bread.
Suddenly yawning, she muttered some remark, and rose. Shelton stopped
her at the door.

"Where are you going?"

"For a walk."

"May n't I come?".

She shook her head.

"I 'm going to take Toddles."

Shelton held the door open, and went back to the table.

"Yes," the Connoisseur said, sipping at his sherry, "I 'm afraid it's
all over with young Foliot."

"Such a pity!" murmured Mrs. Dennant, and her kindly face looked quite
disturbed. "I've known him ever since he was a boy. Of course, I think
he made a great mistake to bring her down here. Not even bein' able
to get married makes it doubly awkward. Oh, I think he made a great
mistake!"

"Ah!" said the Connoisseur, "but d' you suppose that makes much
difference? Even if What 's--his-name gave her a divorce, I don't think,
don't you know, that--"

"Oh, it does! So many people would be inclined to look over it in time.
But as it is it's hopeless, quite. So very awkward for people, too,
meetin' them about. The Telfords and the Butterwicks--by the way,
they're comin' here to dine to-night--live near them, don't you know."

"Did you ever meet her before-er-before the flood?" the Connoisseur
inquired; and his lips parting and unexpectedly revealing teeth gave him
a shadowy resemblance to a goat.

"Yes; I did meet her once at the Branksomes'. I thought her quite a
charmin' person."

"Poor fellow!" said the Connoisseur; "they tell me he was going to take
the hounds."

"And there are his delightful coverts, too. Algie often used to shoot
there, and now they say he just has his brother down to shoot with him.
It's really quite too melancholy! Did you know hi