keeper, who explained in a
semi-apologetic tone all the preparations she had made for the comfort
of the guests, was another. And Williams, though he was always so
dignified, thought Lucy could not help feeling an eye upon her. He was
almost compassionately attentive to his young mistress. There was a
certain pathos in the way in which he handed her the potatoes at lunch.
He pressed a little more claret upon her with a fatherly anxiety, and an
air that seemed to say, "It will do you good." Lucy was conscious of all
this additional attention without realising the cause of it. But it
found its culmination in Lady Randolph, in whom a slightly-injured and
aggrieved air towards Sir Tom was enhanced by the extreme tenderness of
her aspect to Lucy, for whom she could not do too much. "Williams is
quite right in giving you a little more wine. You take nothing," she
said, "and I am sure you want support. After your long drive, too, my
dear: and how cold it has been this morning!"

"Yes, it was cold; but we did not mind, we rather liked it, Jock and I.
Poor Madame di Forno-Populo! She must have felt it travelling all
night."

"Bravo, Lucy, that is right! you have tackled the name at last, and got
through with it beautifully," said Sir Tom with a laugh.

Lucy was pleased to be praised. "I hope I shan't forget," she said, "it
is so long: and oh, Tom, I do hope she can talk English, for you know my
French."

"I should think she could talk English!" said Lady Randolph, with a
little scorn. And what was very extraordinary was that Williams showed a
distinct but suppressed consciousness, putting his lips tight as if to
keep in what he knew about the matter. "And I don't think you need be so
sorry for the lady, Lucy," said the dowager. "No doubt she didn't mean
to travel by night. It arose from some mistake or other in Tom's letter.
But she does not mind that, you may be sure, now that she has made out
her point."

"What point?" said Sir Tom, with some heat. But Lady Randolph made no
reply, and he did not press the question. They were both aware that it
is sometimes better to hold one's tongue. And the curious thing to all
of those well-informed persons was that Lucy took no notice of all their
hints and innuendoes. She was in the greatest spirits, not only
interested about her unknown visitors and anxious to secure their
comfort, but in herself more gay than she had been for some time past.
In fact this arrival was a godsend to L