A crafty and worldly-wise woman, like Mrs. North, can change her tactics as readily as the wind changes its quarters. The avowal of Richard, that he was the master of Dallory Hall, so far as holding all power went--had been the greatest blow to her of any she had experienced in all these later years. It signed, as she perceived, the death-warrant of her own power; for she knew that she should never be allowed to rule again with an unjust and iron hand, as it had been her cruel pleasure to do. In all essential things, where it was needful to interfere, she felt that Richard's will and Richard's policy would henceforth outweigh her own. Madam sat in her dressing-room that night, mentally looking into the future. It was very dim and misty. The sources whence she had drawn her exorbitant supplies were gone; her power was gone. Would it be worth while to remain at the Hall, she questioned, under the altered circumstances. Since the death of James Bohun, and her short sojourn with Sir Nash, an idea had occasionally crossed her mind that it might be desirable to take up her residence with the baronet--if she could only accomplish it. From some cause or other she had formerly not felt at ease when with Sir Nash; but that was wearing off. At any rate, a home in his well-appointed establishment would be far preferable to Dallory if its show and luxury could not be kept up; and all considerations gave way before madam's own selfish interest. Already madam tasted of deposed power. Ellen Adair was to remain at the Hall, and--as Richard had emphatically enjoined--was to be made welcome. Madam gnashed her teeth as she thought of it. Ellen Adair, whom she so hated and dreaded! She lost herself in a speculation of what Richard might have done had she persisted in her refusal. But as madam sat there, a doubt slowly loomed into her mind, whether it might not, after all, be the better policy for Ellen Adair to be at the Hall. The dread that Arthur Bohun might possibly renew his wish to marry her, in spite of all that had been said and done, occasionally troubled madam. In fact it had never left her. She could not make a child again of Arthur and keep him at her apron-string: he was free to go where he would; no matter in what spot of the habitable globe Ellen might be located, no earthly power could prevent his going to her if he wished to do so. Why then, surely it was better that the girl should be under her own eye, and in her own immediate presence. Madam laughed a little as she rose from her musings; she could have found it in her heart to thank Richard North for bringing this about.