ossible. And then, you
mustn't suppose that I shall never earn money. It's only waiting for
one's opportunity."

A silence fell between them. Lashmar's amorous countenance had an
under-note of thoughtfulness; Iris, smiling blissfully, none the less
reflected.

"What are you thinking of?" he asked, gently.

"Only how happy I am. I haven't the slightest fear. I know you have
great things before you. Of course we must make use of our friends. May
I write to Mrs. Toplady, and tell her?"

She spoke without looking at him, and so was spared the interpretation
of muscular twitches.

"Certainly. Do you know whether she is still in London?"

"I don't know, but probably not. Don't you think she may be very useful
to us? I have always found her very nice and kind, and she knows such
hosts of people."

Lashmar had his own thoughts about Mrs. Toplady, but the advantage of
her friendship was undeniable. Happily, he had put it out of her power
to injure him by any revelations she might make concerning May Tomalin;
his avowal to Iris that May had been undisguisedly in love with him
would suffice to explain anything she might hear about the tragi-comedy
at Rivenoak. Whether the lady of Pont Street could be depended upon for
genuine good will, was a question that must remain unsettled until he
had seen her again. She had bidden him to call upon her, at all events,
and plainly it would be advisable to do so as soon as possible.

"Yes," he answered, reflectively. "She is a person to be reckoned with.
It's possible her advice might be worth something in the difficulty
about Liberal or Conservative. She is intelligent enough, I think, to
understand me on that point. Yes, you might write to her at once. If I
were you, I would speak quite frankly. You know her well enough for
that, don't you?"

"Frankly? How?"

"Oh, I mean that you might say we have really been fond of each other
for a long time--and that--well, that fate has brought us together in
spite of everything that kind of thing, you know."

"Yes, yes!" exclaimed Iris. "That's just what I should like to say."

Their talk grew calmly practical; the last half hour of it was
concerned with pecuniary detail. Her eye on the clock--for Leonard was
sure to enter very soon--Mrs. Woolstan gave a full account of her
income, enumerating the securities which were in the hands of her
trustee, Mr. Wrybolt, and those which she had under her own control. In
the event of her re-marriage