She was in this mood one day when he called, and found her in a tête-à-tête with Lord Randolph. She was dressed _à l'Amazone_, for her horse was awaiting its lovely mistress below. "I have arrived _mal à propos_," he said, after the salutations of meeting were over. "I see your ladyship is going out." "Come with us," asked Lord Randolph, shaking his hand warmly. "A gallop will chase away the clouds of study from your brow. Lady Dora, did you ever behold so altered a face? Why, man, your studio will be the death of you." "Not _that_," he replied, looking gloomily downwards; then, as suddenly raising his head, he seemed to chase away shades and clouds, for the face became calm and smiling. "Will you take me _en croupe_?" he asked, addressing Lord Randolph, in answer to his question. "I saw but two horses below--yours and Lady Dora's." "Oh, no! I will send my groom away, if you will mount his. You must accompany us." "Lady Dora says nothing; the lady may have too much excellent taste to admire a trio. In my opinion much pleasure is often lost in them, either in music or society." "How so, Mr. Tremenhere?" she asked coldly. "Why," he answered, laughing,--"there are the soprano, the contralto, and the mezzo; this last I have ever looked upon as an almost indistinct, useless sort of 'lend-its-aid' to support and show off the other two." "Then I'll play mezzo," cried Lord Randolph good-humouredly, but with singular, though unconscious truth; "for I have a bad headache, and you two shall sing, and I will listen, occasionally throwing in a note." "Don't let it be one of discord," cried Tremenhere, in the same tone as before. "We must have harmony; if Lady Dora consent to this, I will gladly take your groom's horse." Her eyes said more than her lips, as she replied--"We shall be most happy of your company." "Might I have chosen a character, in which to have handed Lady Dora down, by my humble skill, to posterity, I should have selected her present one. Lady, I never saw you so perfect as in your Amazonian costume; it suits your style far better than Diana even," and Tremenhere bent his eyes in well-schooled admiration upon her; still the effort was not an immense one, for, as an artist, he could not but have admired her perfection of beauty in this dress; then, too, she was grace personified in the management of a spirited horse, which seemed as a part of herself in pride of beauty. "Why do you object to Diana?" she inquired, fixing her full gaze upon him undauntedly, in all its fire. "Diana," said Lord Randolph, before the other could reply, "conveys to my mind the idea of a lady over fond of being out at night, not a loving bride or wife," and he laughed significantly at Lady Dora, who turned away towards Tremenhere. "You have not answered my question," she said.