Having left the drawing-room in a state of solitude, Lady Lydiard on her return found herself suddenly confronted with a gentleman, mysteriously planted on the hearth-rug in her absence.  The new visitor may be rightly described as a gray man.  He had gray hair, eyebrows, and whiskers; he wore a gray coat, waistcoat, and trousers, and gray gloves.  For the rest, his appearance was eminently suggestive of wealth and respectability and, in this case, appearances were really to be trusted.  The gray man was no other than Lady Lydiard’s legal adviser, Mr. Troy.

“I regret, my Lady, that I should have been so unfortunate as to startle you,” he said, with a certain underlying embarrassment in his manner.  “I had the honor of sending word by Mr. Moody that I would call at this hour, on some matters of business connected with your Ladyship’s house property.  I presumed that you expected to find me here, waiting your pleasure—­”

Thus far Lady Lydiard had listened to her legal adviser, fixing her eyes on his face in her usually frank, straightforward way.  She now stopped him in the middle of a sentence, with a change of expression in her own face which was undisguisedly a change to alarm.

“Don’t apologize, Mr. Troy,” she said.  “I am to blame for forgetting your appointment and for not keeping my nerves under proper control.”  She paused for a moment and took a seat before she said her next words.  “May I ask,” she resumed, “if there is something unpleasant in the business that brings you here?”

“Nothing whatever, my Lady; mere formalities, which can wait till to-morrow or next day, if you wish it.”

Lady Lydiard’s fingers drummed impatiently on the table.  “You have known me long enough, Mr. Troy, to know that I cannot endure suspense.  You have something unpleasant to tell me.”

The lawyer respectfully remonstrated.  “Really, Lady Lydiard!—­” he began.

“It won’t do, Mr. Troy!  I know how you look at me on ordinary occasions, and I see how you look at me now.  You are a very clever lawyer; but, happily for the interests that I commit to your charge, you are also a thoroughly honest man.  After twenty years’ experience of you, you can’t deceive me.  You bring me bad news.  Speak at once, sir, and speak plainly.”

Mr. Troy yielded—­inch by inch, as it were.  “I bring news which, I fear, may annoy your Ladyship.”  He paused, and advanced another inch.  “It is news which I only became acquainted with myself on entering this house.”

He waited again, and made another advance.  “I happened to meet your Ladyship’s steward, Mr. Moody, in the hall—­”

“Where is he?” Lady Lydiard interposed angrily.  “I can make him speak out, and I will.  Send him here instantly.”

The lawyer made a last effort to hold off the coming disclosure a little longer.  “Mr. Moody will be here directly,” he said.  “Mr. Moody requested me to prepare your Ladyship—­”