of her conduct—­indicators of the spiritual secret always.  What are the patient’s acts?  The patient’s, mind was projected too far beyond them to see the fore finger they stretched at her; and the friend’s was not that of a prying doctor on the look out for betraying symptoms.  Lady Dunstane did ask herself why Tony should have incurred the burden of a costly household—­a very costly:  Sir Lukin had been at one of Tony’s little’ dinners:  but her wish to meet the world on equal terms, after a long dependency, accounted for it in seeming to excuse.  The guests on the occasion were Lady Pennon.  Lady Singleby, Mr. Whitmonby, Mr. Percy Dacier, Mr. Tonans;—­’Some other woman,’ Sir Lukin said, and himself.  He reported the cookery as matching the:  conversation, and that was princely; the wines not less—­an extraordinary fact to note of a woman.  But to hear Whitmonby and Diana Warwick!  How he told a story, neat as a postman’s knock, and she tipped it with a remark and ran to a second, drawing in Lady Pennon, and then Dacier, ‘and me!’ cried Sir Lukin; ’she made us all toss the ball from hand to hand, and all talk up to the mark; and none of us noticed that we all went together to the drawing-room, where we talked for another hour, and broke up fresher than we began.’

’That break between the men and the women after dinner was Tony’s aversion, and I am glad she has instituted a change,’ said Lady Dunstane.

She heard also from Redworth of the unexampled concert of the guests at Mrs. Warwick’s dinner parties.  He had met on one occasion the Esquarts, the Pettigrews, Mr. Percy Dacier, and a Miss Paynham.  Redworth had not a word to say of the expensive household.  Whatever Mrs. Warwick did was evidently good to him.  On another evening the party was composed of Lady Pennon, Lord Larrian, Miss Paynham, a clever Mrs. Wollasley, Mr. Henry Wilmers, and again Mr. Percy Dacier.

When Diana came to Copsley, Lady Dunstane remarked on the recurrence of the name of Miss Paynham in the list of her guests.

‘And Mr. Percy Dacier’s too,’ said Diana, smiling.  ’They are invited each for specific reasons.  It pleases Lord Dannisburgh to hear that a way has been found to enliven his nephew; and my little dinners are effective, I think.  He wakes.  Yesterday evening he capped flying jests with Mr. Sullivan Smith.  But you speak of Miss.  Paynham.’  Diana lowered her voice on half a dozen syllables, till the half-tones dropped into her steady look.  ‘You approve, Emmy?’

The answer was:  ‘I do—­true or not.’

’Between us two, dear, I fear! . . .  In either case, she has been badly used.  Society is big engine enough to protect itself.  I incline with British juries to do rough justice to the victims.  She has neither father nor brother.  I have had no confidences:  but it wears the look of a cowardly business.  With two words in his ear, I could arm an Irishman to do some work of chastisement:  he would select the rascal’s necktie for a cause of quarrel and lords have to stand their ground as well as commoners.  They measure the same number of feet when stretched their length.  However, vengeance with the heavens! though they seem tardy.  Lady Pennon has been very kind about it; and the Esquarts invite her to Lockton.  Shoulder to shoulder, the tide may be stemmed.’