Her first marriage was for love.  It cost her seven years of poverty and wretchedness; it cost her, moreover, all the ideals of her youth, and made her a scheming cynic.  Having, by natural power and great good fortune, got the world at her feet, she both enjoyed and despised what seemed to her to have been won so easily.  The softer emotions were allowed no place in her nature; by careful self-discipline, she had enabled herself wholly to disregard the unhappy side of life, to pass without the least twinge of sympathy all human sorrows and pains.  If reminded of them against her will, she hardened herself with the bitter memory of her early years, when, as she said, she had suffered quite enough for one lifetime.  The habit of her mind was to regard existence as an entertaining spectacle.  She had a most comfortable seat, and flattered herself that few people could appreciate so well as she the comedy going on before her.  When she found an opportunity for intervention; when, with little or no trouble to herself, she could rearrange a scene or prepare a novel situation; so much the better was she pleased, and all the more disdain did she feel for the fussy, pompous mortals who were so easily manipulated.

At present she had her eyes upon a personage who amused her considerably.  He answered to the name of Dyce Lashmar, and fell under the general description of charlatan.  Not for a moment had Mrs. Toplady been in doubt as to this classification; but Dyce Lashmar was not quite an ordinary charlatan, and seemed to be worth the observing.  She meant to know him thoroughly, to understand what he really aimed at—­whether he harboured merely a gross design on Lady Ogram’s wealth, or in truth believed himself strong enough to win a place among those grave comedians who rule the world.  He was a very young man; he had not altogether got rid of youth’s ingenuousness; if his ideas were his own (she doubted it) he had evidently a certain mental equipment, which would aid him—­up to a certain point; in every case, he excelled in intellectual plausibility.  Perhaps he might get into Parliament; for the amusement of the thing, she would try to help him in that direction.  On returning from Rivenoak, she had at once begun to spread rumours of a Coming man, a new light in the political world, that it behooved one to keep an eye on.  So seldom did Mrs. Toplady risk her reputation by rash prophecy, that those who heard of Mr. Lashmar were disposed to take him with all seriousness.  Certain of Mrs. Toplady’s intimates begged, and were promised, the privilege of meeting him.  To that end, a ceremonious evening was appointed in Pont Street.

Meanwhile, Lashmar had called, and met with a very gracious reception.  He was bidden to luncheon on a day in the same week.  On arriving, he found with surprise that he was the sole guest.

“I wanted to have a real talk with you,” said the hostess, as she received him in her magnificent drawing-room.  “I have been thinking a great deal about things you said at Rivenoak.”