aid."

Lucy did not ask any more questions. That she was greatly perplexed
there is no doubt, and her first fervour of affectionate interest in
Tom's friend was slightly damped, or at least changed. But she was more
curious than ever; and there was in her mind the natural contradiction
of youth against the warnings addressed to her. Lucy knew very well that
she herself was not one to be twisted round anybody's little finger. She
was not afraid of being subjugated; and she had a prejudice in favour of
her husband which neither Lady Randolph nor any other witness could
impair. The drive home was more silent than the outset. Naturally, the
cold increased as the afternoon went on, and the Dowager shrunk into her
furs, and declared that she was too much chilled to talk. "Oh how
pleasant a cup of tea will be," she said.

Lucy longed for her part to get down from the carriage and walk home
through the village, to see all the cottage fires burning, and quicken
the blood in her veins, which is a better way than fur for keeping one's
self warm. When they got in, it was exciting to think that perhaps the
stranger was coming down to tea; though that, as has been already said,
was a hope in which Lucy was disappointed. Everything was prepared for
her reception, however--a sort of throne had been arranged for her, a
special chair near the fire, shaded by a little screen, and with a
little table placed close to it to hold her cup of tea. The room was all
in a ruddy blaze of firelight, the atmosphere delightful after the cold
air outside, and all the little party a little quiet, thinking that
every sound that was heard must be the stranger.

"She must have been very tired," Lucy said sympathetically.

"I dare say," said Lady Randolph, "she thinks a dinner dress will make a
better effect."

Lucy looked towards her husband almost with indignation, with eyes that
asked why he did not defend his friend. But, to be sure, Sir Tom could
not judge of their expression in the firelight, and instead of defending
her he only laughed. "One general understands another's tactics," he
said.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE VISITORS.

Sir Tom paid his wife a visit when she was in the midst of her toilette
for dinner. He came in, and looked at her dress with an air of
dissatisfaction. It was a white dress, of a kind which suited Lucy very
well, and which she was in the habit of wearing for small home parties,
at which full dress was unnecessary. H