ht to know it you will be told, my dear Pamela. In
the meantime, allow me to have my own opinion about Mr. Vawdrey."

"But, Conrad, in dear Edward's time he used to come to this house
whenever he liked, as if he had been a near relation. And he is the
Duchess's nephew, remember; and when he marries Lady Mabel, and the
Duke dies, he will be one of the largest landowners in South Hampshire."

"Very well, let him come to your dinner. It can make very little
difference."

"Now you are offended, Conrad," said Mrs. Winstanley, with a
deprecating air.

"No, I am not offended; but I have my own opinion as to your wisdom in
giving any encouragement to Mr. Vawdrey."

This sounded mysterious, and made Mrs. Winstanley uncomfortable. But
she was determined not to offend the Duchess, who had been so
particularly gracious, and who had sent Captain and Mrs. Winstanley
a card for a dinner to be given on the last day of the year.

So Roderick got his invitation, and accepted it with friendly
promptitude. He was master of the hounds now, and a good many of his
days were given up to the pleasures of the hunting-field. He was an
important person in his way, full of business; but he generally found
time to drop in for an hour on Mrs. Winstanley's Tuesday afternoons, to
lounge with his back against the massive oaken chimney-breast and talk
to Violet, or pat Argus, while the lady-visitors gossiped and tittered
over their tea-cups.

This last dinner of Mrs. Winstanley was to take place a few days before
Christmas, and was to be given in honour of a guest who was coming to
spend the holidays at the Abbey House. The guest was Captain
Winstanley's Irish friend, Lord Mallow, the owner of Bullfinch.

Vixen's heart gave an indignant bound when she heard that he was coming.

"Another person for me to hate," she said to herself, almost
despairingly. "I am becoming a mass of envy, hatred, and malice, and
all uncharitableness."

Lord Mallow had spent the early morning of life in the army, it
appeared, with no particular expectations. He and Captain Winstanley
had been brother-officers. But the fell sergeant Death had promoted
Patrick Hay to his elder brother's heritage, and he had surrendered a
subaltern's place in a line regiment to become Viscount Mallow, and the
owner of a fine stretch of fertile hill and valley in County Cork. He
had set up at once as the model landlord, eager for his tenantry's
welfare, full of advanced ideas, a violent