Hedges came forward with an apology from the countess-dowager. An apology for not invading their house and inflicting her presence upon them uninvited! A telegraphic despatch from Lord Kirton had summoned her to Ireland on the previous day; and Val's face grew bright as he heard it. "What was the matter, Hedges?" inquired his mistress. "I'm sure my brother would not telegraph unless it was something." "The message didn't say, my lady. It was just a few words, asking her ladyship to go off by the first train, but giving no reason." "I wonder she went, then," observed Val to his wife, as they looked into the different rooms. But Maude did not wonder: she knew how anxious her mother was to be on good terms with her eldest son, from whom she received occasional supplies. Rather would she quarrel with the whole world than with him. "I think it a good thing she has gone, Maude," said he. "There certainly would not have been room for her and for us in this house." "And so do I," answered Maude, looking round her bed-chamber. "If mamma fancies she's going to inflict herself upon us for good she's mistaken. She and I might quarrel, perhaps; for I know she'd try to control me. Val, what are we to do in this small house?" "The best we can. We have made the bargain, you know, and taken possession now." "You are laughing. I declare I think you are glad it has turned out what it is!" "I am not sorry," he avowed. "You'll let me cater for you another time, Maude." She put up her face to be kissed. "Don't be angry with me. It is our home-coming." "Angry!" he repeated. "I have never shown anger to you yet, Maude. Never a woman had a more indulgent husband than you shall have in me." "You don't say a loving one, Val!" "And a loving one also: if you will only let me be so." "What do you mean?" "Love requires love in return. We shall be happy, I am sure, if you so will it. Only let us pull together; one mind, one interest. Here's your maid. I wonder where my dressing room is?" And thus they entered on what remained of the London season. The newspapers announced the arrival of Lord and Lady Hartledon, and Maude read it aloud to her husband. She might have retained peace longer, however, had that announcement not gone forth to the four corners of the land. "Only let us pull together!" A very few days indeed sufficed to dissipate that illusion. Lady Hartledon plunged madly into all the gaieties of the dying season, as though to make up for lost time; Lord Hartledon never felt less inclined to plunge into anything, unless it was the waters of oblivion. He held back from some places, but she did not appear to care, going her way in a very positive, off-hand manner, according to her own will, and paying not the slightest deference to his. CHAPTER XX. THE STRANGER AGAIN.