mention my name?" she asked sharply.

"Certainly not, my Lady. I followed my instructions, and described you
as a benevolent person in search of cases of real distress. It is quite
true that Mr. Tollmidge has died, leaving nothing to his family. But the
widow has a little income of seventy pounds in her own right."

"Is that enough to live on, Moody?" her Ladyship asked.

"Enough, in this case, for the widow and her daughter," Moody answered.
"The difficulty is to pay the few debts left standing, and to start the
two sons in life. They are reported to be steady lads; and the family is
much respected in the neighborhood. The clergyman proposes to get a few
influential names to begin with, and to start a subscription."

"No subscription!" protested Lady Lydiard. "Mr. Tollmidge was Lord
Lydiard's cousin; and Mrs. Tollmidge is related to his Lordship by
marriage. It would be degrading to my husband's memory to have the
begging-box sent round for his relations, no matter how distant they may
be. Cousins!" exclaimed her Ladyship, suddenly descending from the lofty
ranges of sentiment to the low. "I hate the very name of them! A person
who is near enough to me to be my relation and far enough off from me
to be my sweetheart, is a double-faced sort of person that I don't like.
Let's get back to the widow and her sons. How much do they want?"

"A subscription of five hundred pounds, my Lady, would provide for
everything--if it could only be collected."

"It _shall_ be collected, Moody! I will pay the subscription out of my
own purse." Having asserted herself in those noble terms, she spoilt the