Her manner to Lady Ogram was marked with deference, at times with something like affectionate gentleness; to Miss Bride she paid the compliment of amiable gravity; and towards Lashmar she could not have borne herself more respectfully--at all events in language--if he had been a member of the Cabinet; every word which fell from him she found suggestive, illuminative, and seemed to treasure it in her mind.
After dinner, Dyce received from her his cue for drawing-room oratory; he was led into large discourse, and Mrs.Toplady's eyes beamed the most intelligent sympathy.

None the less did roguery still lurk at the corner of her lips, so that from time to time the philosopher fidgeted a little, and asked himself uneasily what that smile meant.
At nine o'clock next morning, Lashmar and Constance sat down to breakfast alone.

Mrs.Toplady rarely showed herself much before noon.
"If the sky clears," said Constance, "Lady Ogram will drive at eleven, and you are invited to accompany her." "And you ?" asked Dyce.
"I have work for two or three hours." Lashmar chipped at an egg, a thoughtful smile upon his countenance.
"Can you tell me anything about Mrs.Toplady ?" he inquired.
"Only what I have heard from Lady Ogram." Constance sketched a biography.

The lady had been twice married, first in early youth to a man who had nothing, and who became phthisical; during his illness they suffered from dire poverty and, at her husband's death, the penniless widow received great kindness from Lady Ogram, whose acquaintance she had made accidentally.

Two years afterwards, she married a northern manufacturer of more than twice her age; an instance (remarked Miss Bride) of natural reaction.