It did not lessen her curiosity, and she went to the drawing-room, wondering still; but she never once glanced at the possibility that it could be Mrs. Dundyke's; the thought occurred to her that it must belong to some member of the Dewsbury family, and had been lent to Mildred. It was a stiff meeting. Mrs. Arkell, fully imbued with the persuasion that her sister was left badly off, that she was the same poor sister of other days, was less cordial than she might have been. She shook hands with her sister; she shook hands with Lucy; but in her manner there was a restraint that told. They spoke of general subjects, of Mr. Dundyke's strange adventure in Switzerland, and his subsequent real death; of Lucy's sojourn in London; of Charlotte's recent marriage; of the departure of Sophy with her for India--just, in fact, as might have been the case with ordinary guests. "Travice is soon to be married, I hear," said Mrs. Dundyke. "Yes; but he holds back unpardonably." Had Mrs. Arkell not been thinking of something else, she had never given that tart, but true answer. She happened just then to be calculating the cost of Mrs. Dundyke's handsome mourning, and wondering how she got it. "Why does he hold back?" quickly asked Mrs. Dundyke. "Oh, I don't know," said Mrs. Arkell, with a gay, slighting laugh. "I suppose young men like to retain their bachelor liberty as long as they can. Does your aunt purpose to settle down in Westerbury, Lucy?" "For the present." "Does she think of going out again?" "Oh no." "Perhaps she has saved enough to keep herself without? She could not expect to find another such place as Lady Dewsbury's." It was not a pleasant visit, and Mrs. Dundyke did not prolong it. As they were going out they met Travice. "Oh, Aunt Betsey! How glad I am to see you!" But he turned coldly enough to shake hands with Lucy. He cherished resentment against her in his heart. She saw he did not look well; but she was cold as he was. As he walked across the hall with his aunt, Mrs. Arkell drew Lucy back into the drawing-room. Her curiosity had been on the rack all the time. "Whose carriage is that, Lucy? One belonging to the Dewsburys'?" "It is Mrs. Dundyke's." "Mrs.----what did you say? I asked whose carriage that is that you came in," added Mrs. Arkell, believing that Lucy had not heard aright. "Yes, I understood. It is Mrs. Dundyke's. She sent it on, the day before yesterday, with her servants and horses." "But--does--she--keep a carnage and servants?" reiterated Mrs. Arkell, hardly able to bring out the words in her perplexed amazement. "Oh, yes." "Then she must be left well off?" "Very well. She is very rich. I believe her income is close upon two thousand a year." "Two thou----" Mrs. Arkell wound up with a shriek of astonishment. Lucy had to leave her to recover it in the best way she could, for Mrs. Dundyke had got into the carriage and was waiting for her.