"Yes, indeed, Williams, they are and must seem particularly unpleasant to you. I ought to have thought of that. I will see this person myself." And before Williams could interpose, or by look or hint explain to her how much worse than improper he considered her personal interference, she had descended the staircase and was crossing the hall. At sight of her the man rose from his seat, and believing her to be Mrs. Werner, he began some awkward apology for his presence. Then Dolly explained she was only a friend staying in the house; that she feared at so late an hour in the evening it would be useless sending for Lord Darsham, and that in short, she worded it delicately but explicitly, he had better do whatever was necessary, and go about his business. Which without the slightest unnecessary delay he did. First he opened the outer door, and whistled for his man as if whistling for a dog. Then he made a rapid inventory of a few articles in the dining-room, and after handing a paper to Mrs. Mortomley, took his leave. Then appeared Williams, more erect in his respectability, more severe in his deportment, more correct in his speech than ever. He had made up his mind. He would give notice to Lord Darsham in the morning. "Where would it please you, ma'am, for that person to pass the night?" he inquired. Dolly went out into the hall where sat one of the men who had been such unwelcome visitors at Homewood. Recognising her, he stood up and touched his forehead respectfully. "It is you then," she remarked; "that is fortunate. Of course, there is no necessity for you to remain here." "I am afraid I must, ma'am, orders is orders, and--" "You can leave quite easily," she interrupted, "and you know that. You can come back in the morning. You must dress in black and wear a white cravat, and ask for Mr. Williams, and the servants will imagine you come from the undertaker. I will give you a sovereign if you oblige me in this matter, and I am sure Lord Darsham will not forget you either. Take the key with you if you like." Still the man hesitated. He looked at the sovereign lying in his hand, and then at Mrs. Mortomley. Then he ventured, "Is--is there anything else in? I know you are a lady as wouldn't deceive me." "Nothing," she answered. "Or expected?" he went on. "There is nothing expected," was the reply. "But something may come, although I do not think it in the least degree probable. If it does, I will say you are already in possession; no harm shall come to you." "I must stay for a little while, for fear of the governor coming back, but I will leave before ten o'clock if that will do?" "That will do," said Mrs. Mortomley. What a contagion there is in vice! As vice, or indeed as worse than vice, Williams regarded these mysteries with which Mrs. Mortomley was evidently _au courant_, and yet there seemed a fascination about it all to the butler.