s she stared gloomily out of the open
window, "is always a liar!"

Mrs. Potten rang the door-bell at the Lodging and waited for the answer
with much warmth of interest. Suppose Lena was not at home? What should
she do? She must thrash out this matter. Lena would be certain to be at
home, it was so early!

She _was_ at home!

Mrs. Potten walked upstairs, her mind agitated with mingled emotions,
and also the hope of meeting the Warden, incidentally. But she did not
meet the Warden. He was not either coming up or going down, and Mrs.
Potten found herself alone in the drawing-room.

She could not sit down, she walked up to the fireplace and stared
through her glasses for a moment at the portrait. It was quite true that
the man was a very good-looking Warden! Yes, but scarcely the sort of
person she would have thought suitable to look after young men; and then
she walked away to the window. She was framing in her mind the way in
which she should open the subject of her call at this early hour. She
almost started when she heard the door click, and turned round to see
Lady Dashwood coming towards her.

"Dear one, how tired you look!" said Mrs. Potten; "and I really ought
not to have come at this unholy hour----"

"It's not so early," said Lady Dashwood. "You know work begins in this
house at eight o'clock in the morning."

"So much the better," said Mrs. Potten. "I don't like the modern late
hours. In old days our Prime Ministers were up at six in the morning
attending to their correspondence. When are they up now, I should like
to know? Well," she added, "I have come to offer you my congratulations.
I got a letter this morning from Lady Belinda, telling me all about it.
No, I won't sit down, I merely ran in for a moment."

Lady Dashwood did not smile. She simply repeated: "From Belinda, telling
you all about it!"

Mrs. Potten noted the sarcasm underlying the remark.

"Humph!" said Mrs. Potten. "And you, my dear, said nothing yesterday,
though we sat together for half an hour."

"They were not engaged till yesterday evening," said Lady Dashwood.

"Belinda writing yesterday speaks of this engagement having already
taken place," said Mrs. Potten; "but, of course, she is wrong."

"Yes," said Lady Dashwood.

"Ah!" cried Mrs. Potten, nodding her head up and down once or twice.

"Jim has gone to town this morning," said Lady Dashwood.

"To buy a ring?" said Mrs. Potten. "Well, I really ought to have brought
you L