, kindly face,
who was dressed plainly in black, and who eyed the gorgeous Briggs with
the faintest suspicion of a smile. He was Errington's butler, and had
served the family for twenty-five years.

"Her ladyship is driving in the Park," he said in response to the
condescending inquiries of Briggs. "She left the house about half an
hour ago."

Briggs thereupon handed in the cards, and forthwith reported the result
of his interview to Lady Winsleigh, who said with some excitement--

"Turn into the Park and drive up and down till I give further orders."

Briggs mutely touched his hat, mounted the box, and the carriage rapidly
bowled in the required direction, while Lady Winsleigh remarked
laughingly to Mrs. Marvelle--

"Philip is sure to be with his treasure! If we can catch a glimpse of
her, sitting, staring open-mouthed at everything, it will be amusing! We
shall then know what to expect."

Mrs. Marvelle said nothing, though she too was more or less curious to
see the "peasant" addition to the circle of fashionable society,--and
when they entered the Park, both she and Lady Winsleigh kept a sharp
look-out for the first glimpse of the quiet grey and silver of the
Bruce-Errington liveries. They watched, however, in vain--it was not yet
the hour for the crowding of the Row--and there was not a sign of the
particular equipage they were so desirous to meet. Presently Lady
Winsleigh's face flushed--she laughed, and bade her coachman come to a
halt.

"It is only Lennie," she said in answer to Mrs. Marvelle's look of
inquiry. "I _must_ speak to him a moment!"

And she beckoned coquettishly to a slight, slim young man with a dark
moustache and rather handsome features, who was idling along on the
footpath, apparently absorbed in a reverie, though it was not of so deep
a character that he failed to be aware of her ladyship's presence--in
fact he had seen her as soon as she appeared in the Park. He saw
everything apparently without looking--he had lazily drooping eyes, but
a swift under-glance which missed no detail of whatever was going on. He
approached now with an excessively languid air, raising his hat slowly,
as though the action bored him.

"How do, Mrs. Marvelle!" he drawled lazily, addressing himself first to
the elder lady, who responded somewhat curtly,--then leaning his arms on
the carriage door, he fixed Lady Winsleigh with a sleepy stare of
admiration. "And how is our Clara? Looking charming, as usual! By