the pride of other days, and accepted the position considerately and delicately offered to him in Lady Lydiard’s house.  He had now no near relations living, and he had never made many friends.  In the intervals of occupation he led a lonely life in his little room.  It was a matter of secret wonder among the women in the servants’ hall, considering his personal advantages and the opportunities which must surely have been thrown in his way, that he had never tempted fortune in the character of a married man.  Robert Moody entered into no explanations on that subject.  In his own sad and quiet way he continued to lead his own sad and quiet life.  The women all failing, from the handsome housekeeper downward, to make the smallest impression on him, consoled themselves by prophetic visions of his future relations with the sex, and predicted vindictively that “his time would come.”

“Well,” said Lady Lydiard, “and what have you done?”

“Your Ladyship seemed to be anxious about the dog,” Moody answered, in the low tone which was habitual to him.  “I went first to the veterinary surgeon.  He had been called away into the country; and—­”

Lady Lydiard waved away the conclusion of the sentence with her hand.  “Never mind the surgeon.  We must find somebody else.  Where did you go next?”

“To your Ladyship’s lawyer.  Mr. Troy wished me to say that he will have the honor of waiting on you—­”

“Pass over the lawyer, Moody.  I want to know about the painter’s widow.  Is it true that Mrs. Tollmidge and her family are left in helpless poverty?”

“Not quite true, my Lady.  I have seen the clergyman of the parish, who takes an interest in the case—­”

Lady Lydiard interrupted her steward for the third time.  “Did you mention my name?” she asked sharply.

“Certainly not, my Lady.  I followed my instructions, and described you as a benevolent person in search of cases of real distress.  It is quite true that Mr. Tollmidge has died, leaving nothing to his family.  But the widow has a little income of seventy pounds in her own right.”

“Is that enough to live on, Moody?” her Ladyship asked.

“Enough, in this case, for the widow and her daughter,” Moody answered.  “The difficulty is to pay the few debts left standing, and to start the two sons in life.  They are reported to be steady lads; and the family is much respected in the neighborhood.  The clergyman proposes to get a few influential names to begin with, and to start a subscription.”

“No subscription!” protested Lady Lydiard.  “Mr. Tollmidge was Lord Lydiard’s cousin; and Mrs. Tollmidge is related to his Lordship by marriage.  It would be degrading to my husband’s memory to have the begging-box sent round for his relations, no matter how distant they may be.  Cousins!” exclaimed her Ladyship, suddenly descending from the lofty ranges of sentiment to the low.  “I hate the very name of them!  A person who is near enough to me to be my relation and far enough off from me to be my sweetheart, is a double-faced sort of person that I don’t like.  Let’s get back to the widow and her sons.  How much do they want?”