Lionel followed her to the door. "Lady James, let me beg of you to keep the--er--hysteria in check." "Of course," she assured him, giving her hand frankly; "I always adapt my mood to my company. It would be useless for one woman to waste hysteria on another--both know too much about it. I'll be nice--oh, you can be sure of that. I'm not a bad sort, my good man." "Sometimes I think you are a very decent sort, Lady James." "And on other occasions?" she questioned, unmoved. "Don't ask me." "I won't. You can't explain, and will only fib. Parsons can't keep back an answer, whether they know anything of the matter in hand or not. But I'll be good to that poor baby-woman--indeed I will." And indeed she was, swinging round to the opposite extreme, with the protean adaptability of her nature. Besides, after the interview with the new Duke she felt able to command her feelings better. It is only possible to act perfectly when the emotions are under control, as Lady Jim found; and if she said what she did not mean, and acted as she did not feel, well, that was the fault of the circumstances into which her treacherous fetish had thrown her. But at heart she really had some pity for this useless doll of a woman, who sobbed in her arms. "Don't cry, dear," said Leah, ardently, beginning to console; "you know how I feel for you. I also have lost a husband." Owing to circumstances she rather choked over this lie, but it came out pretty readily. "I shall never--never lift up my head again," sobbed the latest widow. "Oh, yes, you will, dear," replied the earlier one, cheerfully: "look at me!" Hilda shook her head and declined to look. "Frith wasn't Jim," said she. "And he wasn't my husband, either. You feel Frith's death and I feel Jim's. We each have our own sorrow, and time alone will help us to forget the dear departed." "Leah"--Hilda sobbed more violently than ever--"I shall never--never forget. Never--never--never--never!" "I didn't mean forget exactly," murmured Leah, who had been more candid than she intended; "but time will soothe us, and we shall all meet on a happier shore." "I hope so--I hope so"; the Marchioness clasped her hands devoutly and raised her eyes. "I can see our three dear ones meeting now." "I wish I could," said Lady Jim, truthfully, and she felt that the meeting of the Kaimes family in heaven would be a sight worth witnessing. Of course Jim was alive, but even if he were dead, she did not think that Hilda's vision could possibly become fact. The Duke, who had turned angel in his old age, and Frith, who was always pious, had a chance certainly; but Jim, when his turn came, would probably not be of the party.