“We have missed you so much, my dear,” she said, affectionately.  “Indeed, my husband has been quite fidgety and irritable—­so unlike him!—­and Edwin has been worse, if it were possible.  Men are a great trouble, my dear Ida.  Though perhaps I ought not to say that of mine, for I count myself lucky in both husband and son.  Edwin has scarcely given me a day’s trouble since he was a child.  I really think, if I were asked what are the best gifts bestowed by the fairy godmother, I should say ‘a good digestion and a temper to match,’ and I am quite proud of Edwin’s strength and amiability.  But even he has been somewhat of a trial for the last few days; so, my dear girl, do come over and help me manage them.”

Ida smiled rather absently, and her ladyship glided smoothly from the subject.

“Since we last saw you we have called at the Villa,” she said, “and we were fortunate enough to find Miss Falconer at home.  She is alone there in that huge palace of a place, for her father has gone back to London; and, though I was never very much taken with her, I could not help pitying her.”

“Why?” asked Ida, not absently now, but in her quiet, reserved manner.

“She looks so—­well, actually so unhappy,” replied Lady Bannerdale.  “She was in mourning, and her face—­she is really an extremely beautiful girl!—­was like marble.  And her reception of me was almost as cold.  I am afraid that she has had more trouble than we are aware of, there was such a preoccupied and indifferent air about her.  It occurred to me that she was fretting for her absent fiance, Mr. Stafford—­oh, dear me!  I shall never remember to call him Lord Highcliffe!—­and I resolved to carefully refrain from mentioning him; but you know how stupid one is in such a case, how one always talks about lameness in the presence of a man with one leg; and in the midst of a pause in the conversation, which, by the way, was nearly all on my side, I blurted out with:  ’Have you heard from Mr. Stafford Orme lately, Miss Falconer?’ ‘I suppose you mean Lord Highcliffe, Lady Bannerdale?’ she said, turning her cold, blue eyes on my scarlet face.  ’He is in Australia, and is well.  I do not hear very often from him.  He is leading a very busy life, and has little time for letter-writing, I imagine.’  Of course I got myself away as soon as I could after that, and I’m afraid I left a very bad impression upon Miss Falconer.”

Ida said nothing, but leant forward and stirred the fire, which may have caused the colour which glowed for a moment or two on her face.

“I am sure I don’t know why the young man should have rushed off to the other end of the world:  or why he doesn’t rush back again and marry the lady of his heart, who has enough money for both of them, and would make an extremely handsome and stately countess.  By the way, have you ever seen the present Lord Highcliffe, my dear?” “Yes, I have seen him,” Ida replied in the tone which