ce, with dog-stove, low brass fender, and ingle-nook recessed
under the high mantelpiece, all combined to form a luxurious and
harmonious whole.

Lady Kirkbank admired the _tout ensemble_ in the fitful light of the
fire, the dim grey of deepening twilight.

'There never was a more delicious cell!' she exclaimed, 'but still I
should feel it a prison, if I had to spend six weeks in the year in it.
I never stay more than six weeks anywhere out of London; and I always
find six weeks more than enough. The first fortnight is rapture, the
third and fourth weeks are calm content, the fifth is weariness, the
sixth a fever to be gone. I once tried a seventh week at Pontresina, and
I hated the place so intensely that I dared not go back there for the
next three years. But now tell me. Diana, have you really performed
suttee, have you buried yourself alive in this sweet spot deliberately,
or has the love of retirement grown upon you, and have you become a kind
of lotus-eater?'

'I believe I have become a kind of lotus-eater. My retirement here has
been no sentimental sacrifice to Lord Maulevrier's memory.'

'I am glad to hear that; for I really think the worst possible use a
woman can make of her life is in wasting it on lamentation for a dead
and gone husband. Life is odiously short at the best, and it is mere
imbecility to fritter away any of our scanty portion upon the dead, who
can never be any the better for our tears.'

'My motive in living at Fellside was not reverence for the dead. And now
let us talk of the gay world, of which you know all the secrets. Have
you heard anything more about Lord Hartfield?'

'Ah, there is a subject in which you have reason to be interested. I
have not forgotten the romance of your youth--that first season in which
Ronald Hollister used to haunt every place at which you appeared. Do you
remember that wet afternoon at the Chiswick flower-show, when you and he
and I took shelter in the orange house, and you two made love to each
other most audaciously in an atmosphere of orange-blossoms that almost
stifled me? Yes, those were glorious days!'

'A short summer of gladness, a brief dream,' sighed Lady Maulevrier. 'Is
young Lord Hartfield like his father?'

'No, he takes after the Ilmingtons; but still there is a look of your
old sweetheart--yes, I think there is an expression. I have not seen him
for nearly a year. He is still abroad, roaming about somewhere in search
of adventures. These y