for between two lovers of whom one was a widow and the other an
Undersecretary of State from the India Office. They were loving, but
discreetly amatory, talking chiefly of things material, each flattering
the other, and each hinting now and again at certain little circumstances
of which a more accurate knowledge seemed to be desirable. The one was
conversant with things in general, but was slow; the other was quick as a
lizard in turning hither and thither, but knew almost nothing. When she
told Lord Fawn that the Ayrshire estate was "her own, to do what she liked
with," she did not know that he would certainly find out the truth from
other sources before he married her. Indeed, she was not quite sure
herself whether the statement was true or false, though she would not have
made it so frequently had her idea of the truth been a fixed idea. It had
all been explained to her; but there had been something about a second
son, and there was no second son. Perhaps she might have a second son yet,
a future little Lord Fawn, and he might inherit it. In regard to honesty,
the man was superior to the woman, because his purpose was declared, and
he told no lies; but the one was as mercenary as the other. It was not
love that had brought Lord Fawn to Mount Street.

"What is the name of your place in Ireland?" she asked.

"There is no house, you know."

"But there was one, Frederic?"

"The town-land where the house used to be is called Killeagent. The old
demesne is called Killaud."

"What pretty names! and--and--does it go a great many miles?" Lord Fawn
explained that it did run a good many miles up into the mountains. "How