What is to be done next ?" She looked, as she put that question to herself, at an open newspaper thrown on the table, which announced the death of "that accomplished artist Mr.Tollmidge, related, it is said, to the late well-known connoisseur, Lord Lydiard." In the next sentence the writer of the obituary notice deplored the destitute condition of Mrs.Tollmidge and her children, "thrown helpless on the mercy of the world." Lady Lydiard stood by the table with her eyes on those lines, and saw but too plainly the direction in which they pointed--the direction of her check-book.
Turning towards the fireplace, she rang the bell.

"I can do nothing in this matter," she thought to herself, "until I know whether the report about Mrs.Tollmidge and her family is to be depended on.

Has Moody come back ?" she asked, when the servant appeared at the door.

"Moody" (otherwise her Ladyship's steward) had not come back.

Lady Lydiard dismissed the subject of the artist's widow from further consideration until the steward returned, and gave her mind to a question of domestic interest which lay nearer to her heart.