uite an ordinary woman, and I see
things in a way of my own. She has a claim upon me, because she's one
of the few women who have nothing of the baby or the idiot in them, and
I've been looking out for that sort all my life. If Constance
Bride"--the voice became slower, as if for emphasis--"is put into a
position of trust, she'll do all that is expected of her. There's no
particular hurry; she's young enough still. And as for you, you've got
your hands full."

Dyce felt so puzzled that he could not shape a word. One thing was
growing clear to him; but what did the old woman mean by her "position
of trust?" How was Constance to be given her "chance?" And what'
exactly, was she expected to do?

"Well, we've had our talk," said the old lady, moving as if in pain and
weariness. "Go back to town to-night or to-morrow morning, as you like.
Write to me, mind, as well as to Miss Bride, and let me know of all the
acquaintances you make. It's just possible I may be in London myself
next month; it depends on several things."

She became dreamy. Dyce, though he would have liked to say much, knew
not how to express himself; it was plain, moreover, that his hostess
had little strength to-day. He rose.

"I think I shall catch the evening train, Lady Ogram."

"Very well. A pleasant journey!"

She gave her hand, and Dyce thought it felt more skeleton-like than
ever. Certainly her visage was more cadaverous in line and hue than he
had yet seen it. Almost before he had turned away, Lady Ogram closed
her eyes, and lay back with a sigh.

So here were his prospects settled for him! He was to marry Constance
Bride--under some vague conditions which perturbed him almost as much
as the thought of the marriage itself. Impossible that he could have
misunderstood. And how had Lady Ogram hit upon such an idea? It was
plain as daylight that the suggestion had come from Constance herself.
Constance had allowed it to be understood that he and she were, either
formally, or virtually, affianced.

He stood appalled at this revelation in a sphere of knowledge which he
held to be particularly his own.

CHAPTER XI

It was a week after the departure of Dyce Lashmar. Lady Ogram had lived
in agitation, a state which she knew to be the worst possible for her
health. Several times she had taken long drives to call upon
acquaintances, a habit suspended during the past twelvemonth; it
exhausted her, but she affected to believe that the air and