o cleverly improved her complexion that it almost looked like
nature. Her cheeks had lost the plumpness of youth, but her hair
(thanks again perhaps to Art) showed no signs of turning grey. The
expression of her large dark eyes--placed perhaps a little too near her
high aquiline nose--claimed admiration from any person who was so
fortunate as to come within their range of view. Her hands, long,
yellow, and pitiably thin, were used with a grace which checked to some
extent their cruel betrayal of her age. Her dress had seen better days,
but it was worn with an air which forbade it to look actually shabby.
The faded lace that encircled her neck fell in scanty folds over her
bosom. She sank into a chair by Hugh's side. "It was a great pleasure
to me, Mr. Mountjoy, to offer my poor services to Miss Henley; I can't
tell you how happy her presence makes me in our little house." The
compliment was addressed to Iris with every advantage that smiles and
tones could offer. Oddly artificial as it undoubtedly was, Mrs.
Vimpany's manner produced nevertheless an agreeable impression.
Disposed to doubt her at first, Mountjoy found that she was winning her
way to a favourable change in his opinion. She so far interested him,
that he began to wonder what her early life might have been, when she
was young and handsome. He looked again at the portraits of actresses
on the walls, and the plays on the bookshelf--and then (when she was
speaking to Iris) he stole a sly glance at the doctor's wife. Was it
possible that this remarkable woman had once been an actress? He
attempted to put the value of that guess to the test by means of a
complimentary allusion to the prints.

"My memory as a playgoer doesn't extend over many years," he began;
"but I can appreciate the historical interest of your beautiful
prints." Mrs. Vimpany bowed gracefully--and dumbly. Mountjoy tried
again. "One doesn't often see the famous actresses of past days," he
proceeded, "so well represented on the walls of an English house."

This time, he had spoken to better purpose. Mrs. Vimpany answered him
in words.

"I have many pleasant associations with the theatre," she said, "first
formed in the time of my girlhood."

Mountjoy waited to hear something more. Nothing more was said. Perhaps
this reticent lady disliked looking back through a long interval of
years, or perhaps she had her reasons for leaving Mountjoy's guess at
the truth still lost in doubt. In either case,