Alma Buckley was a strange mixture. She was very honest in money matters, she had no inclination to dishonest acts, but she thought nothing of telling a lie; she was not over scrupulous in the general conduct of life. Was it possible that Lettice could marry again, in face of that terrible episode in her past? Alma laughed her scruples to scorn. “Of course you will marry again, and equally there is no necessity to tell your husband a word of the past. Up to the time you marry him, your life belongs to yourself, not to him. He won’t be likely to have a clean sheet himself, any more than you.” The advice so frequently and emphatically tendered, fell upon very willing ears. But, at the moment, there were no prospects of a second marriage. Lettice went nowhere and knew nobody but Alma Buckley. That astute young woman, after much cogitation, evolved a plan to remedy this state of things. “Of course, you can come to me as you used to do, and resume acquaintance with my old lot, but they’re no good to you, I wouldn’t marry one of them myself. You’ve got to fly at higher game.” Lettice sighed. She quite agreed with her friend, but how was it to be done? “Now, this is my idea. Go and live in a nice respectable neighbourhood, go regularly to church, and get in with the parson and his wife. Play your cards well, and they’ll hand you on to their friends. In time you’ll get a nice little circle round you, and in a couple of years’ time you’ll have more acquaintances than you know what to do with. You’ve nothing to hide except that one little episode; you’re a lady on your father’s side, at any rate, and you act and speak like one; you’ll go down all right when you’ve once got a start.” It was sound, worldly advice, if it did not err on the side of scrupulousness, and as it has been remarked before, it fell upon very willing ears. Alma Buckley gave further proof of the sincerity of her friendship by announcing her readiness to efface herself to any necessary extent. “I don’t think it will do for me to appear upon the scene, I, Alma Buckley, a third-rate music-hall artist. I should give the show away at once. Besides, I couldn’t play the lady for five minutes. We can meet ‘under the rose,’ or you can come to me, and I’ll give orders that none of my lot are to be admitted while you’re there.” This scheme was put into execution, and worked out splendidly. In five years’ time Miss Larchester had troops of acquaintances; she had received half a dozen offers of marriage from fairly eligible men. But she was in no hurry to choose till she met the man who absolutely came up to her standard.