brother's. And I wish I was his brother for a day only; I'd let Mr. Val
know what presumption comes to. Can't dinner be delayed?"

"I'm afraid not, my lady."

"Ugh!" snapped the countess-dowager. "Send up tea at once; and let
it be strong, with a great deal of green in it. And some rolled
bread-and-butter, and a little well-buttered toast."

Mirrable departed with the commands, more inclined to laugh at the
selfish old woman than to be angry. She remembered the countess-dowager
arriving on an unexpected visit some three or four years before, and
finding the old Lord Hartledon away and his wife ill in bed. She remained
three days, completely upsetting the house; so completely upsetting the
invalid Lady Hartledon, that the latter was glad to lend her a sum of
money to get rid of her.

Truth to say, Lady Kirton had never been a welcome guest at Hartledon;
had been shunned, in fact, and kept away by all sorts of _ruses_. The
only other visit she had paid the family, in Mirrable's remembrance, was
to the town-house, when the children were young. Poor little Val had been
taught by his nurse to look upon her as a "bogey;" went about in terror
of her; and her ladyship detecting the feeling, administered sly pinches
whenever they met. Perhaps neither of them had completely overcome the
antagonism from that time to this.

A scrambling sort of life had been Lady Kirton's. The wife of a very poor
and improvident Irish peer, who had died early, leaving her badly
provided for, her days had been one long scramble to make both ends meet
and avoid creditors. Now in Ireland, now on the Continent, now coming out