disappointment.

"Mr. Pawson," announced the lady of the house, "is the legal light
who casts a shadow of obscurity over my affairs."

And with that she left the room.

As soon as the door was closed Mrs. Ingham-Baker was on her feet.
She crossed the room to where her hostess's key-basket and other
belongings stood upon a table near the window. She stood looking
eagerly at these without touching them. She even stooped down to
examine the address of an envelope.

"Mr. Pawson!" she said, in a breathless whisper. "Mr. Pawson--what
does that mean? Can she be going to alter her--no! But--yes, it
may be! Perhaps Susan knows."

Mrs. Ingham-Baker then rang the bell twice, and resumed her seat.

Presently an aged servant came into the room. It was easy to see at
a glance that she was a very old woman, but the years seemed to
weigh less on her mind than on her body.

"Yes," she said composedly.

"Oh--eh, Susan," began Mrs. Ingham-Baker almost cringingly. "I rang
because I wanted to know if a parcel has come for me--a parcel of
floss-silk--from that shop in Buckingham Palace Road, you know."

"If it had come," replied Susan, with withering composure, "it would