gesture of
tragic acting. Yet at the same time, mixed in therewith, a curious
strain of womanish, nay childish, weakness, appealingness. Altogether, a
great lady, and a personality--yet something else too--something
ill-assured, timid, incongruous--hard to be defined.

"I believe you have not been at Mellor long?" the new-comer asked, in a
deep contralto voice which she dragged a little.

"About seven weeks. My father and mother have been there since May."

"You must of course think it a very interesting old place?"

"Of course I do; I love it," said Marcella, disconcerted by the odd
habit Lady Winterbourne had of fixing her eyes upon a person, and then,
as it were, forgetting what she had done with them.

"Oh, I haven't been there, Agneta," said the new-comer, turning after a
pause to Miss Raeburn, "since that summer--_you_ remember that party
when the Palmerstons came over--so long ago--twenty years!"

Marcella sat stiffly upright. Lady Winterbourne grew a little nervous
and flurried.

"I don't think I ever saw your mother, Miss Boyce--I was much away from
home about then. Oh, yes, I did once--"

The speaker stopped, a sudden red suffusing her pale cheeks. She had
felt certain somehow, at sight of Marcella, that she should say or do
something untoward, and she had promptly justified her own prevision.
The only time she had ever seen Mrs. Boyce had been in court, on the
last day of the famous trial in which Richard Boyce was concerned, when
she had made out the wife sitting closely veiled as near to her husband
as possible, waiting for the verdict. As she had already confided this
reminiscence to Miss Raeburn, and had forgotten she had done so, both
ladies had a moment of embarrassment.

"Mrs. Boyce, I am sorry to say, does not seem to be strong," said Miss
Raeburn, bending over the heel of her stocking. "I wish we could have
had the pleasure of seeing her to-day."

There was a pause. Lady Winterbourne's tragic eyes were once more
considering Marcella.

"I hope you will come and see me," she said at last abruptly--"and Mrs.
Boyce too."

The voice was very soft and refined though so deep, and Marcella looking
up was suddenly magnetised.

"Yes, I will," she said, all her face melting into sensitive life.
"Mamma won't go anywhere, but I will come, if you will ask me."

"Will you come next Tuesday?" said Lady Winterbourne quickly--"come to
tea, and I will drive you back. Mr. Raeburn told me about you. He