father was a solicitor and something of an ENTREPRENEUR towards the
end, I fancy--in the Black Country. There was a little brother
died, and she's lost her mother quite recently. Quite on her own,
so to speak. She's never been out into society very much, and
doesn't seem really very anxious to go. . . . Not exactly an
intellectual person, you know, but quiet, and great force of
character. Came up to London on her own and came to us--someone had
told her we were the sort of people to advise her--to ask what to
do. I'm sure she'll interest you."

"What CAN people of that sort do?" I asked. "Is she capable of
investigation?"

Altiora compressed her lips and shook her head. She always did
shake her head when you asked that of anyone.

"Of course what she ought to do," said Altiora, with her silk dress
pulled back from her knee before the fire, and with a lift of her
voice towards a chuckle at her daring way of putting things, "is to
marry a member of Parliament and see he does his work. . . .
Perhaps she will. It's a very exceptional gal who can do anything
by herself--quite exceptional. The more serious they are--without
being exceptional--the more we want them to marry."

Her exposition was truncated by the entry of the type in question.

"Well!" cried Altiora turning, and with a high note of welcome,
"HERE you are!"

Margaret had gained in dignity and prettiness by the lapse of five