‘I’ll telegraph to Dick,’ she said, presently.  ’I’ve no doubt he’ll see that everything’s done properly.’

‘But won’t he come himself?’

‘We shall see.’

‘Is your mother in?’

’She’s not very well; I don’t think I must disturb her with bad news.  Tell Emma I’m very sorry, will you?  I do hope she isn’t going to be ill.  You must see that she gets rest now.  Was it sudden?’ she added, showing in her face how little disposed she was to dwell on such gloomy subjects as death and burial.

’She was wandering all yesterday.  I don’t think she knew anything after eight o’clock last night.  She went off in a sleep.’

When the visitor had gone, Alice drove to the nearest telegraph office and despatched a message to her brother, giving the news and asking what should be done.  By three o’clock in the afternoon no reply had yet arrived; but shortly after Mr. Keene presented himself at the house.  Alice had not seen him since her return.  He bowed to her with extreme gravity, and spoke in a subdued voice.

’I grieve that I have lost time, Miss Mutimer.  Important business had taken me from home, and on my return I found a telegram from Wanley.  Your brother directs me to wait upon you at once, on a very sad subject, I fear.  He instructs me to purchase a grave in Manor Park Cemetery.  No near relative, I trust?’

‘No, only a friend,’ Alice replied.  ’You’ve heard me speak of a girl called Emma Vine.  It’s a sister of hers.  She died this morning, and they want help about the funeral.’

’Precisely, precisely.  You know with what zeal I hasten to perform your’—­a slight emphasis on this word—­’brother’s pleasure, be the business what it may.  I’ll see about it at once.  I was to say to you that your brother would be in town this evening.’

’Oh, very well.  But you needn’t look so gloomy, you know, Mr. Keene.  I’m very sorry, but then she’s been ill for a very long time, and it’s really almost a relief—­to her sisters, I mean.’

‘I trust you enjoyed your visit to Wanley, Miss Mutimer?’ said Keene, still preserving his very respectful tone and bearing.

’Oh yes, thanks.  I dare say I shall go there again before very long.  No doubt you’ll be glad to hear that.’

’I will try to be, Miss Mutimer.  I trust that your pleasure is my first consideration in life.’

Alice was, to speak vulgarly, practising on Mr. Keene.  He was her first visitor since she had entered upon rule, and she had a double satisfaction in subduing him with airs and graces.  She did not trouble to reflect that under the circumstances he might think her rather heartless, and indeed hypocrisy was not one of her failings.  Her naivete constituted such charm as she possessed; in the absence of any deep qualities it might be deemed a virtue, for it was inconsistent with serious deception.

‘I suppose you mean you’d really much rather I stayed here?’