Lady Bell overmastered her surprise, and asking the young girl to sit down, looked at her critically as she did so.

Yes, the girl was a lady, there could be no doubt of that. But it was not only the evidence of refinement in the face and the manner of the girl that struck Lady Bell; there was an expression in the dark eyes and clear-cut lips, slightly compressed, which roused her interest and curiosity.

It was a face with a history.

For the first time she looked at Lady Challoner’s note.

“I see,” she said, “that Lady Challoner knows you, Miss Treherne.”

“She knew my grandfather,” was the quiet answer. “He is dead.”

“Lately?” said Lady Bell, glancing at the note.

Laura Treherne bent her head.

“Two months ago,” she said, sadly.

“And have you no friends with whom you could go and live?”

“None who would care to have me, or to whom I should wish to go.”

Lady Bell was silent for a moment—the girl interested her more each minute.

“Are you taking a wise step in seeking for a situation which is considered menial?” she asked.

Laura Treherne paused for a moment.

“I do not think it degradation to serve Lady Earlsley,” she said.

Lady Bell smiled, not ill pleased.

“You mean to say that you would not accept any situation?”

Laura Treherne inclined her head.

“How did you know that I wanted a maid?”

“I heard it in the house where I am lodging,” she replied.

“And you knew me?”

“Yes; I had heard of you, my lady.”

“Have you any other testimonials besides this note of Lady Challoner’s?”

“None, my lady.”

Lady Bell hesitated.

“It is quite sufficient,” she said; “but I am afraid you do not understand the duties of a lady’s maid.”

“I think so, my lady. What I do not know now, I can soon learn.”

“That’s true. And I see you do not wish your real name to transpire?”

“I would rather that it did not. I would rather be known by some other name,” answered Laura Treherne.

“Why?”

There was a moment’s hesitation, and the dark face paled slightly.

“I thought Lady Challoner had explained. My friends——”

“You do not care for your friends to know that you are in a situation? You think their pride would be greater than your own?”

“Exactly, my lady.”

“Well, I’ll engage you,” she said. “When can you come? I have no maid at present.”

“Now, at once, if your ladyship wishes. I will stay now, and send for my luggage, if you please.”

“Very well,” said Lady Bell. “Come to my room in half an hour, and we will arrange matters. You have said nothing about salary.”

“That I leave in your ladyship’s hands.”

“Like the cabmen,” said Lady Bell, laughing. “Well, come to my room in half an hour.”

Laura Treherne bowed and left the room, and Mrs. Fellowes lifted up her voice in remonstrance.

“My dear Bell, that letter may be a forgery.”

“It might be, but it isn’t. I can read faces, and I like that young lady’s. Yes, she’s a lady, poor girl. Well, she might have hit upon a worse mistress; I shan’t bang her about the head with a hair brush when I’m in a temper, as Lady Courtney does her maid. There, spare your remonstrances, my dear. The girl’s engaged, and I mean to keep her. And now there are three or four people coming to dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Davenant, Jack—I mean Mr. Newcombe—and that strange girl, Una. What a lovely creature she is! Do you know I rather think she will become Mrs. Stephen Davenant.”

“She is a very nice girl,” said Mrs. Fellowes. “She ought to make a good match.”

“Ay de me,” said Lady Bell, with a sigh. “I’m sick of that word. Men and women don’t ‘marry’ now, they make ‘good matches.’ My dear, I hate your worldly way of looking at matrimony. If I were a poor girl, I’d marry the man of my heart, if he hadn’t a penny. Ah, and if he were the baddest of bad lots.”

“Like Jack Newcombe, for instance,” said Mrs. Fellowes, archly.

“Yes,” said Lady Bell, turning with the door in her hand; “like Jack Newcombe,” and she ran up to her room.

Punctual to the minute, Laura Treherne knocked at the door of the dressing-room. Lady Bell was seated before the glass, surrounded by her walking clothes, which, as was her custom, she had slipped out of or flung carelessly aside.

Without a word Laura picked them up and put them in the wardrobe, and without a word took up the hair brushes. Lady Bell watched her in the glass, and gave her a hint now and then, and when her hair was dressed glanced round approvingly.

“Yes,” she said, “that is very nice; and you have not hurt me once. The last maid used to pull me terribly. I suppose she was thinking of her young man. By the way, are you engaged?”

The dark face flushed for a moment, then grew pale.

“No, my lady.”

“I’m glad of it. Take my advice and don’t be. That sounds selfish, doesn’t it. Now you want to know what I am going to wear. I don’t know myself. What would you choose? Go to the wardrobe.”

Laura went to the wardrobe, and came back after a minute or two with a dress of black satin and lace looped up with rosebuds of the darkest red. It was one newly arrived from Worth.

Lady Bell nodded.

“Yes, that just suits me. Give me a lady for good taste! And now choose the ornaments. There is the jewel-box.”

Laura chose the set of rubies and diamonds, and Lady Bell smiled again.

“I shall look rather Spanish. Never mind. Let us try them.”

With deft and gentle hands Laura helped her to dress, and Lady Bell nodded approval.

“Am I ready?”

Laura hesitated a moment.

“Will your ladyship wear the pendant?”

Lady Bell glanced in the glass.

“Ah, I see, you think that is rather too much against the rosebuds. You are right. Take it off, please. Thanks. Put the key of the jewel-box in your pocket. Stay! there is a chain for you to wear it on;” and she took out a small gold chain. “You can keep that as your own.”

Laura Treherne flushed, and she inclined her head gratefully.

Lady Bell was relieved; her last maid used to overwhelm her with thanks.

“And now I will go down. By the way, will you please tell Simcox—that’s the butler—that the gentlemen will want Lafitte, at least, Mr. Newcombe will. I don’t know what Mr. Stephen Davenant drinks. What’s the matter?” she broke off to inquire, for she heard Laura stumble and fall against the wardrobe.

There was a moment’s pause; then, calmly enough, Laura said:

“My foot caught in your ladyship’s dress, I think.”

“Have you hurt yourself?” asked Lady Bell, kindly. “You have gone quite pale! Here, take some of this sal-volatile.”

But Laura declined, respectfully. It was a mere nothing, and she would be more careful of alarming her ladyship for the future.

Lady Bell looked at her curiously. The quiet, self-contained manner, so free from nervousness or embarrassment, interested her.

She stopped her as Laura was leaving the room.

“We haven’t fixed upon a name for you yet,” she said.

“No, my lady; any name will do.”

“It is a pity to change yours—it is a pretty one.”

“Will Mary Burns do, my lady? It was my mother’s name.”

“Very well,” said Lady Bell; “I will tell Mrs. Fellowes that you will be known by that.”

“That girl has a history, I know,” she thought, as she went downstairs.

Punctual almost to the minute, Mrs. Davenant’s brougham arrived.

The evenings had drawn in, and a lamp was burning in the hall; and a small fire made the dining-room comfortable.

Lady Bell welcomed Una most affectionately.

“Now we will have a really enjoyable evening,” she said. “I hate dinner parties, and if I had my way, would never give nor go to another one. If it were only a little colder, we’d sit round the fire and bake chestnuts. Have you ever done that, Wild Bird?”

“Often,” said Una, with a quiet smile, and something like a sigh, as she thought of the long winter evenings in the cot. How long ago they seemed, almost unreal, as if they had never happened.

“Oh, Una is very accomplished,” said Jack; “I believe she could make coffee if she tried.”

Very snug and comfortable the dining-room looked. Lady Bell had dispensed with one of the footmen, and had evidently determined to make the meal as homely and unceremonious as possible.

Never, perhaps, had the butler seen a merrier party. Even Stephen was genial and humorous; indeed he seemed to exert himself in an extraordinary fashion. Lady Bell had given him Una to take in, and he was most attentive and entertaining—so much that Jack, who was sitting opposite, and next to Lady Bell, felt amused and interested at the change which seemed to have come over him.

Could he have seen the workings of the subtle mind concealed behind the smiling exterior, he would have felt very much less at his ease; for even now Stephen was plotting how best he could mold the material round him to serve his purpose, and while the laugh was lingering on his smooth lips, his heart was burning with hate and jealousy of the rival who sat opposite.

For it had come to this, that he desired Una, and not only for the wealth of which he had robbed her, but for herself. As deeply as it was possible for one of his nature he loved the innocent, unsuspecting girl who sat beside him.

Tonight, as he looked at the beautiful face and marked each fleeting expression that flitted like sunshine over it: as he listened to the musical voice, and felt the touch of her dress as it brushed his arm, a passionate longing seized and mastered him, and he felt that he would risk all of which he was wrongfully possessed to win her—ah, and if she were, indeed, only the daughter of a common woodman.

“Curse him!” he murmured over his wine glass, as his eyes rested on Jack’s handsome face. “If he had not crossed my path, she would have been mine ere now; no matter, I will strike him out of it, as if he were a viper in my road.”

Meanwhile, quite unconscious of Stephen’s generous sentiments, Jack went on with his dinner, enjoying it thoroughly, and as happy as it is given to a mortal to be.

Presently the conversation turned upon their plans for the autumn.

“What are we all going to do?” said Lady Bell. “You, I suppose, Mr. Davenant, will go down to your place in Wealdshire—what is it called?”

“Hurst Leigh,” said Stephen, quietly. “Yes, I must go down there, I ought to have been there before now, but I find so many attractions in town,” and he smiled at Una.

“And you, my dear?” said Lady Bell to Mrs. Davenant.

“My mother will go down with me,” said Stephen.

Mrs. Davenant glanced at him nervously.

“And that means Miss Wild Bird, too, I suppose?” remarked Lady Bell.

“If Miss Una will honor us,” said Stephen, with an inclination of the head to Una. “Yes, we shall make quite a family party. You will join us, of course, Jack?”

Jack, who had looked up rather grim at the foregoing, bit his lip.

“I don’t quite know,” he said, gravely.

“Surely you will not let the poachers have all the birds this year, Jack!” said Stephen, brightly. “Besides my mother will be quite lost without you.”

“Do come, Jack,” whispered Mrs. Davenant.

“I’ll see,” said Jack, grimly, and Una looked down uneasily; she understood his reluctance to go to the old place.

“Oh, we will take no refusal,” said Stephen, buoyantly. “And what are your plans, Lady Bell?”

Lady Bell looked up with rather a start and a flush.

“I—I—don’t quite know,” she said. “I had been thinking of going to a small place we have at Earl’s Court.”

“Earl’s Court!” exclaimed Jack. “Why, that is only thirteen miles or so from the Hurst.”

“Is it?” said Lady Bell. “I didn’t know. I haven’t seen it. I’m ashamed to say that I haven’t made a round of inspection of the property yet. My stewards are always bothering me to do so, but I don’t seem to have time.”

“A sovereign cannot be expected to visit the whole of her kingdom,” said Stephen, with a smile.

Lady Bell sighed.

“I often wish the old earl had left me five hundred a year and a cottage somewhere,” she said, quietly. “I should have been a happier woman. Oh, here is the claret. Give Mr. Newcombe the Lafitte, Simcox. Mr. Davenant——”

“I always follow Jack’s suit,” said Stephen, rising to open the door for the ladies. “He is an infallible guide in such matters.”

“Fancy a woman lamenting the extent of her wealth,” he said, with something like a sneer, as he went back to the table. “If any girl ought to be happy that girl ought to be. What a chance for some young fellow! My dear Jack, if I had been in your place——”

Jack looked up with a tinge of red in his face.

“What nonsense. Lady Bell knows better than to be caught by such chaff as I am. Besides, I am more than content. I wouldn’t exchange Una for a Duchess, with the riches of Peru in her pockets. What about the commissionership, or whatever it is, Stephen?”

“All in good time, my dear Jack. Those sort of things aren’t done in a moment; the matter is in hand, and we shall get it, be sure. Meanwhile, if you want any money——”

“Thanks, no,” said Jack, easily.

He had only that morning negotiated a bill with Mr. Moss for another hundred pounds.

Stephen smiled evilly behind his pocket handkerchief. He held that bill in his pocketbook at that moment, in company with all Jack’s previous ones.