on both
cheeks, addressed her as "my dearest Di," and finally permitted herself,
with downcast eyes and a modest demeanour, to be introduced to Lucian.

It might be inferred from the foregoing description that Miss Tyler was
a young and ardent damsel in her teens; whereas she was considerably
nearer forty than thirty, and possessed an uncomely aspect unpleasing to
male eyes. Her own were of a cold grey, her lips were thin, her waist
pinched in, and--as the natural consequence of tight lacing--her nose
was red. Her scanty hair was drawn off her high forehead very tightly,
and screwed into a cast-iron knob at the nape of her long neck; and she
smiled occasionally in an acid manner, with many teeth. She wore a
plainly-made green dress, with a toby frill; and a large silver cross
dangled on her flat bosom. Altogether, she was about as venomous a
specimen of an unappropriated blessing as can well be imagined.

"Bella," said Miss Vrain to this unattractive female, "for certain
reasons, which I may tell you hereafter, Mr. Denzil wishes to know if
Mrs. Vrain was at Berwin Manor on Christmas Eve."

"Of course she was not, dearest Di," said Bella, drooping her elderly
head on one scraggy shoulder, with an acid smile. "Didn't I tell you so?
I was asked by Lydia--alas! I wish I could say my dearest Lydia--to
spend Christmas at Berwin Manor. She invited me for my singing and
playing, you know: and as we all have to make ourselves agreeable, I
came to see her. On the day before Christmas she received a letter by
the early post which seemed to upset her a great deal, and told me she
would have to run up to town on business. She did, and stayed all night,
and came down next morning to keep Christmas. I thought it _very_
strange."

"What was her business in town, Miss Tyler?" asked Lucian.

"Oh, she didn't tell _me_," said Bella, tossing her head, "at least not
directly, but I gathered from what she said that something was wrong
with poor dear Mr. Clyne--her father, you know, dearest Di."

"Was the letter from him?"

"Oh, I couldn't say that, Mr. Denzil, as I don't know, and I never speak
by hearsay. So much mischief is done in the world by people repeating
idle tales of which they are not sure."

"Was Count Ferruci at Berwin Manor at the time?"

"Oh, dear me, no, Di! I told you that he was up in London the whole of
Christmas week. I only hope," added Miss Tyler, with a venomous smile,
"that Lydia did not go up to meet him."