Almost unconsciously, the good lady was meditating how she could find out without committing herself or compromising her dignity. If wit or diplomacy could manage it, she was resolved on securing her favorite as a wife for her son, though a couple of days before she would not have thanked the soothsayer who might have told her that such an event was looming in the future as a marriage between Lois and Gerald. CHAPTER XI. PAUL DESFRAYNE’S WIFE. Lady Quaintree did not let excitement interfere with her usual plans and daily arrangements. She had settled that they should go on Saturday--the day after that one so memorable in Lois’ life--to the Zoological Gardens to hear the band play; and, accordingly, at about four o’clock, she set off with Lois and her son in the carriage. To Lois it all appeared as a dream. Everything was the same, yet how different! Only a week ago had she attended her patroness to this gay scene, then as her paid if esteemed and indulged dependent. Now how was everything altered! Her very attire proclaimed that the tide of events had swept over her. She thought to keep her head steady, to stand unchanged, but it was difficult. It is as dangerous looking over an abyss clothed with all the flowers of spring, illumined by the golden rays of the morning sun, as to peer down from the black, beetling brow of a precipice, jagged and repellent. “Heaven!” she cried, half-shudderingly, in the depths of her heart, “keep my soul pure and unspotted. Help me to do my duty now, even if I have failed in the days gone by.” It was but too sweet for a beautiful girl of eighteen to be suddenly paid so much court, to be coaxed to drink so many a cup of nectar-tinctured flattery. Great was the wonderment among the large circle of Lady Quaintree’s friends and acquaintances at the magic change in Miss Turquand’s status in society. No one knew the stipulations in the old man’s will. It was only known that she was now the happy possessor of a large fortune, in lieu of being a penniless toiler in the world’s hive. That day Lois Turquand might have commanded a dozen offers, some good, some bad, some indifferently good. Many people speculated as to what would happen next. “She was sure to marry at once,” everybody said. “Her beauty, her money, and her romantic little history would surely obtain for her the vivid interest of some more or less eligible individual.” The majority decided she would marry Gerald Danvers. Lady Quaintree had mentioned the projected visit to the Zoo, in the hearing of Frank Amberley, and he was haunting the gates when the little party arrived. Poor fellow! He could not resist coming, fluttering about the flame that might end by consuming him.