m. There's a girl at the
Feltons' who has just come down from the Treshams', and I wouldn't have
missed her stories of Alicia for a great deal. She's been setting her
cap, it appears, at Lord Philip. However" (Lady Niton chuckled) "_there_
she's met her match."

"Rut they _are_ engaged?" said Diana, in bewildered interrogation.

The little lady's laugh rang out--shrill and cracked--like the crow of a
bantam.

"She and Lord Philip? Trust Lord Philip!"

"No, I didn't mean that!"

"She and Oliver? I've no doubt Oliver thinks--or thought--they were.
What view he takes now, poor fellow, I'm sure I don't know. But I don't
somehow think Alicia will be able to carry on the game indefinitely.
Lady Lucy is losing patience."

Diana sat in silence. Lady Niton could not exactly decipher her. But she
guessed at a conflict between a scrupulous or proud unwillingness to
discuss the matter at all or hear it discussed, and some motive deeper
still and more imperative.

"Lady Lucy has been ill too?" Diana inquired at last, in the same voice
of constraint.

"Oh, very unwell indeed. A poor, broken thing! And there don't seem to
be anybody to look after them. Mrs. Fotheringham is about as much good
as a broomstick. Every family ought to keep a supply of superfluous
girls. They're like the army--useless in peace and indispensable in war.
Ha! here's Sir James."

Both ladies perceived Sir James, coming briskly up the garden path. As
she saw him a thought struck Diana--a thought which concerned Lady
Niton. It broke down the tension of her look, and there was the gleam of
a smile--sad still, and touching--in the glance she threw at her
companion. She had been asked to tea to meet a couple of guests from
London with whose affairs she was well acquainted; and she too thought
Sir James had been playing Providence.

Sir James, evidently conscious, saw the raillery in her face, pinched
her fingers as she gave him her hand, and Diana, passing him, escaped to
the garden, very certain that she should find the couple in question
somewhere among its shades.

Lady Niton examined Sir James--looked after Diana.

"Look here!" she said, abruptly; "what's up? You two understand
something I don't. Out with it!"

Sir James, who could always blush like a girl, blushed.

"I vow that I am as innocent as a babe unborn!"

"What of?" The tone of the demand was like that of a sword in the
drawing.

"I have some guests here to-day."

"Who are they?