“Yes; I am very comfortable here,” Dyce answered, in melodious undertone.

“And all goes well?  Your committee at work, and all that?”

“Everything satisfactory, so far.  The date is not fixed yet.”

“But it’ll be all over, no doubt, in time for the partridges,” said Mrs. Toplady, scrutinising him with an amused look.  “Do you shoot?”

“Why no, Mrs. Toplady.  I care very little for sport.”

“Like all sensible men.  I wanted to hear what you think about Lady Ogram’s will.”

Lashmar was disconcerted.  He had to confess that he knew nothing whatever about the will.

“Indeed?  Then I bring you news.”

They were interrupted by a waiter who appeared with tea.  The visitor graciously accepted a cup.

“Funerals exhaust one so, don’t they?” she remarked.  “I don’t know your opinion, but I think people should be married and buried far more quietly.  For my own part, I grieve sincerely for the death of Lady Ogram.  It’s a great loss to me.  I liked her, and I owed her gratitude for very much kindness.  But I certainly shouldn’t have gone to her funeral, if it hadn’t been a social duty.  I should have liked to sit quietly at home, thinking about her.”

“I thoroughly agree with you,” replied Dyce, absently.  “You came down yesterday?”

“In the evening.—­You know that Miss Tomalin is at my house?”

“I had no idea of it.”

“Yes.  She arrived the day before yesterday.  She left Rivenoak as soon as she knew about Lady Ogram’s will.  I’m very glad indeed that she came to me; it was a great mark of confidence.  Under the circumstances, she could hardly remain here.”

“The circumstances—?”

“Lady Ogram’s will does not mention her.”

Lashmar felt a spasm in his breast.  The expression of his features was so very significant that Mrs. Toplady’s smile threatened to become a laugh.

“It’s rather startling, isn’t it?” she continued.  “The will was made t year ago.  Lady Ogram didn’t mean it to stand.  When she was in town, she talked over her affairs with her solicitor; a new will was to be made, by which Miss Tomalin would have come into possession of Rivenoak, and of a great deal of money.  You can probably guess why she put off executing it.  She hoped her niece’s marriage-settlement would come first.  But the old will remains, and is valid.”

“Will you tell me its provisions?” asked Lashmar, deliberately.

“In confidence.  It won’t be made public till the executors—­Sir William Amys and Mr. Kerchever—­have proved it.  I never knew a more public-spirited will.  Hollingford gets a hospital, to be called the Lady Ogram; very generously endowed.  Rivenoak is to be sold, and the proceeds to form a fund for a lot of Lady Ogram Scholarships.  A working-girl’s home is to be founded in Camden Town (it seems she was born there), and to be called Lady Ogram House.  A lady