Elizabeth Niton shook her head.

“There’s only your Maker could do that, Lucy.  And He must be pretty puzzled to account for you sometimes.  Good-bye.  I thought Alicia looked uncommonly cheerful!”

This last remark was delivered as a parting shot as Lady Niton hobbled to the door.  She could not, however, resist pausing to see its effect.  Lady Lucy turned indignantly.

“I don’t know what you mean by that remark.  Alicia has behaved with great kindness and tact!”

“I dare say!  We’re all darlings when we get our way.  What does Ferrier say?”

Lady Lucy hesitated.

“If my old friends cannot see it as I do—­if they blame me—­I am very sorry.  But it is my responsibility.”

“A precious good thing, my dear, for everybody else!  But as far as I can make out, they are engaged?”

“Nothing is settled,” said Lady Lucy, hastily; “and I need not say, Elizabeth, that if you have any affection for us—­or any consideration for Miss Mallory—­you will not breathe a word of this most sad business to anybody.”

“Well, for Oliver’s sake, if he doesn’t intend to behave like a man, I do certainly hope it may be kept dark!” cried Lady Niton.  “For if he does desert her, under such circumstances, I suppose you know that a great many people will be inclined to cut him?  I shall hold my tongue.  But, of course, it will come out.”

With which final shaft she departed, leaving Lady Lucy a little uneasy.  She mentioned Elizabeth Niton’s “foolish remark” to Mrs. Fotheringham in the course of the evening.  Isabel Fotheringham laughed it to scorn.

“You may be quite sure there will be plenty of ill-natured talk either way, whether Oliver gives her up or doesn’t.  The real thing to bear in mind is that if Oliver yields to your wishes, mamma—­as you certainly deserve that he should, after all you have done for him—­he will be delivered from an ignorant and reactionary wife who might have spoiled his career.  I like to call a spade a spade.  Oliver belongs to his party, and his party have a right to count upon him.  He has no right to jeopardize either his opinions or his money; we have a claim on both.”

Lady Lucy gave an unconscious sigh.  She was glad of any arguments, from anybody, that offered her support.  But it did occur to her that if Diana Mallory had not shown a weakness for the soldiers of her country, and if her heart had been right on Women’s Suffrage, Isabel would have judged her case differently; so that her approval was not worth all it might have been.

* * * * *

Meanwhile, in the House of Commons, Isabel Fotheringham’s arguments was being put in other forms.

On the Tuesday morning Marsham went down to the House, for a Committee, in a curious mood—­half love, half martyrdom.  The thought of Diana was very sweet; it warmed and thrilled his heart.  But somehow, with every hour, he realized more fully what a magnificent thing he was doing, and how serious was his position.