ate, not to say incomprehensible, story about Stanislas McKay.
She had heard, she said--it was not necessary to say how--that they
meant to send him on some secret expedition, full of danger, she
understood, and she thought it such a pity--so wrong, so unfair!

"He ought really to return to England and take up his proper
position," she went on. "Lord Essendine wishes it, and so, I am sure,
must you."

"No one will be more pleased to welcome him back than myself," said
Mr. Faulks. "I should be glad indeed of his countenance and support
just now. They do not treat me too well here."

"Can it be possible!" she exclaimed, in a voice of tenderest interest.
"You whom I have always thought one of the most useful, estimable men
in the public service."

"Things are not what they were, my dear lady; they do not appreciate
me here. They deny me the smallest, the most trifling recognition.
Would you believe it that, after five-and-thirty years of
uninterrupted service, they still hesitate to give me a decoration? I
ought to have had the Companionship of the Bath at the last change of
Ministry."

"Of course you ought; I have often heard Lord Essendine say so."

"Has he now, really?" asked Mr. Faulks, much flattered.

"Frequently," went on Mrs. Wilders, fluently, availing herself readily
of the opening he had given her. "I am sure he has only to know that
you are disappointed in this matter and he will give you the warmest
support. You know he belongs to the party now in power, and a word
from him--"

"If he will deign to interest himself on my behalf the matter is, of
course, settled."

"And he shall, rely on me for that."

"How can I ever thank you sufficiently, dear lady, for your most
gracious, most generous encouragement? If I can serve you in any way,
command me."

"Well, you can oblige me in a little matter I have much at heart."

"Only name it," he cried, earnestly.

"Come and dine with me to-night in Thistle Grove."

"Is that all? I accept with enthusiasm."

"Only a small party: four at the most. You know I am still in deepest
mourning. My poor dear general--" she dropped her voice and her
eyes.

"Ah!" said Mr. Faulks, sympathetically; "you have known great sorrows.
But you must not brood, dear lady: we should struggle with grief." He
took her hand, and looked at her in a kindly, pitying way.

The moment was ill-timed for interruption, but the blame was Sir
Humphrey's, who now sent the messenger with a