Lady Markham did not forget Janet’s request to see the house, which had been so boldly made when the girl had thought herself Paul’s future wife. She took her into the great drawing-room with a little gleam of malicious pleasure, to show her what she had lost, and watched her bewildered admiration and awe. By this time the happiness of knowing that her son was not going to forsake her had begun to diffuse itself through Lady Markham’s being like a heavenly balsam, soothing all her troubles. When they met going into the dining-room as the luncheon-bell rang, she put her hand within his arm, holding it close to her side for one moment of indulgence. “You are not going away,” she said in his ear. “Thank God! Oh, why did you not make me happy sooner--why did you not tell me, Paul?” “Going away,” he said perplexed, “of course I am going away.” And then her real meaning crossed him. “What, with Spears?” he said. “There has not been any thought of that for many a day.” Spears talked little at this meal; he was full of the discouragement and mournful anger of disappointment. Up to the last moment he had hoped that Paul would change his mind--perhaps on the ground of his supposed love for Janet, if nothing else. But Paul had said nothing about Janet. He did not understand it, but it made his heart sore. The rest of the party were embarrassed enough, except Gus, who still thought this man with the heavy brows was an electioneering agent yet did not like to tackle him much, lest he should show his own ignorance of English policy--(“Decidedly I must read the papers and form opinions,” Gus said to himself); and Janet, who, seated at this beautiful table, with the flowers on it and all the sparkling glass and silver, and Charles waiting behind her chair, was sparkling with delight and pride. She was seated by the side of Sir Augustus, and spoke to him, calling him by that name. The dishes which were handed to her by the solemn assiduity of Mr. Brown were food for the gods, she thought, though they were simple enough. She made notes of everything for her own future guidance. It was just possible, M. Lisiere had said, that he might keep a page to wait upon his wife; thus the glory of a “man-servant” might still be hers. In imagination she framed her life on the model of Markham; and so full was her mind of these thoughts that Janet scarcely noticed Paul, who, on his side, paid no attention to her. As for Lady Markham, she was the soul of the party. She almost forgot her recent sorrow, and the sight of Sir Augustus at the other end of the table did not subdue her as usual. She asked Spears questions about his journey with the very wantonness of relief--that journey which she had shuddered to hear named, which had overshadowed her mind night and day was like a dead lion to her; she could smile at it now.