"Don't be ill-natured, dear! Mrs. Norman is here by the advice of
one of the first physicians in London; she has suffered under
serious troubles, poor thing."

Mr. Romsey persisted in being ill-natured. "Connected with her
husband?" he asked.

Lady Myrie entered a protest. She was a widow; and it was
notorious among her friends that the death of her husband had
been the happiest event in her married life. But she understood
her duty to herself as a respectable woman.

"I think, Mr. Romsey, you might have spared that cruel allusion,"
she said with dignity.

Mr. Romsey apologized. He had his reasons for wishing to know
something more about Mrs. Norman; he proposed to withdraw his
last remark, and to put his inquiries under another form. Might
he ask his wife if anybody had seen _Mr._ Norman?

"No."

"Or heard of him?"

Mrs. Romsey answered in the negative once more, and added a
question on her own account. What did all this mean?

"It means," Lady Myrie interposed, "what we poor women are all
exposed to--scandal." She had not yet forgiven Mr. Romsey's
allusion, and she looked at him pointedly as she spoke. There are