the opportunities which must surely have been thrown in his way, that
he had never tempted fortune in the character of a married man. Robert
Moody entered into no explanations on that subject. In his own sad and
quiet way he continued to lead his own sad and quiet life. The women all
failing, from the handsome housekeeper downward, to make the smallest
impression on him, consoled themselves by prophetic visions of his
future relations with the sex, and predicted vindictively that "his time
would come."

"Well," said Lady Lydiard, "and what have you done?"

"Your Ladyship seemed to be anxious about the dog," Moody answered, in
the low tone which was habitual to him. "I went first to the veterinary
surgeon. He had been called away into the country; and--"

Lady Lydiard waved away the conclusion of the sentence with her hand.
"Never mind the surgeon. We must find somebody else. Where did you go
next?"

"To your Ladyship's lawyer. Mr. Troy wished me to say that he will have
the honor of waiting on you--"

"Pass over the lawyer, Moody. I want to know about the painter's widow.
Is it true that Mrs. Tollmidge and her family are left in helpless
poverty?"

"Not quite true, my Lady. I have seen the clergyman of the parish, who
takes an interest in the case--"

Lady Lydiard interrupted her steward for the third time. "Did you