This tender commiseration was very captivating.  But the low, sweet voice seemed to have lost its charm.

“I think I told you yesterday, Mrs. Wilders, that I intended to return to England,” said Lord Lydstone, in a cold, hard voice.

“Yes; when do you start?”

“To-morrow, I think.  Have you any commands?”

“You do not offer me a passage home?”

“Well, you see, I am travelling post haste,” he answered.  “I shall only go in the yacht as far as Trieste, and then on overland.  I fear that would not suit you?”

“I should be perfectly satisfied”—­she was not to be put off—­“with any route, provided I go with you.”

“You are very kind, Mrs. Wilders,” he said, more stiffly, but visibly embarrassed.  “I think, however, that as I shall travel day and night I had better—­”

“In other words, you decline the pleasure of my company,” she said, in a voice of much pique.

It was very plain that she had no longer any influence over him.

“But why are you in such a desperate hurry, Lord Lydstone?” she went on.

“I have had letters, urging me to hurry home.  My father and mother are most anxious to see me; and now, after what has happened, it is right that I should be at their side.”

“You are a good son, Lord Lydstone,” she said, but there was the slightest sneer concealed beneath her simple words.

“I have not been what I ought, but now that I am the only one left I feel that I must defer to my dear parents’ wishes in every respect.”  He said this with marked emphasis.

“They have views for you, I presume?” Mrs. Wilders asked, catching quickly at his meaning.

“My mother has always wanted me to settle down in life, and my father has urged me—­”

“To marry.  I understand.  It is time, they think, for you to have sown your wild oats?”

“Precisely.  I have liked my freedom, I confess.  Now there are the strongest reasons why I should marry.”

“To secure the succession, I suppose.”

“We have surely a right to look to that!” said Lord Lydstone, rather haughtily.

“Oh! of course.  Everyone is bound to look after his own.  And the young lady—­has she been found?”

Lord Lydstone coloured at this point-blank question.

“I have been long paying my addresses to Lady Grizel Banquo,” he said.

“Oh! she is your choice?  I have often seen her and you together.”

“We have been friends almost from childhood; and it seems quite natural—­”

“That you should tie yourself for life to a red-headed, raw-boned Scotch girl.”

“To an English lady of my own rank in life,” interrupted Lord Lydstone, sternly, “who will make me an honest, faithful helpmate, as I have every reason to hope and believe.”

“You are just cut out for domestic felicity, Lord Lydstone.  I can see you a staid, sober English peer, a pattern of respectability, the stay and support of your country, obeyed with reverent devotion by a fond wife, bringing up a large family—­”