gazing vacantly, until his hostess offered him a cup of tea. As he
bent forward to take it, his eyes for a moment dwelt with unusual
intentness on the face and figure of Iris Woolstan. Then, as he
sipped, he again grew absent-minded. Iris, too, was absorbed in
thought.

"You were speaking of Lady Ogram," she resumed, gently.

"Yes. A friend of mine down at Alverholme knows her very well, and
thought I might like to meet her. I half think I should. She lives
at Hollingford; a rich old woman, going in a good deal for social
questions. A widow, no children. Who knows?" he added, raising his,
eyebrows and looking straight at Iris. "She might interest herself
in--in my view of things."

"She might," replied the listener, as if overcoming a slight
reluctance. "Of course it all depends on her own views."

"To be sure, I know very little about her. It's the vaguest
suggestion. But, you see, I'm at the moment, when any suggestion,
however vague, has a possible value. One point is certain; I shan't
take any more pupils. Without meaning it, you have decided this
question for me; it's time I looked to other things."

"I _felt_ that!" exclaimed Mrs. Woolstan, her eyes brightening.
"That was what decided me; I see now that it was--though perhaps.
I hardly understood myself at the time. No more pupils! It is time
that your serious career began."

Lashmar smiled, nodding in reflective approval. His eyes wandered,