“It is no use to waste time on the idiot,” reflected her visitor. “She don’t understand a word one says, and she thinks they can buy Society as if it were a penny bun. Old Billy’s sharper; I wonder he had not the sense to divorce her in the States, or wherever they come from.” “Where’s your man?” she said impatiently. “William’s in the City, my lady,” answered Mrs. Massarene proudly. “William, ma’am, is very much thought of in the City.” “He’s on lots of things, I suppose?” After some moments’ puzzled reflection his wife replied, “Meaning Boards, ma’am? Yes, he is. They seem they can’t do without him. William had always a wonderful head for business.” “Ah!” said Lady Kenilworth. “He must put Cocky on some good things. My husband, you know. Everything is done by companies nowadays. Even the Derby favorite is owned by a syndicate. Tell him to put Lord Kenilworth on all his good things, and not to mind if he’s unpunctual. Lord Kenilworth never can understand why half-past two isn’t the same hour as twelve.” “That won’t do in business, my lady,” said Mrs. Massarene boldly, for here she was sure of her ground. “Five minutes late writes ruin sometimes.” “Does it indeed? I suppose that’s what makes it so fetching. I am sure it would do Cocky worlds of good; wake him up; give him things to think of.” “Is my lord a business man, ma’am?” said Mrs. Massarene, with great doubt in her tone. “Oh, they all are now, you know. Cocky’s very lazy, but he’s very clever.” “My lord don’t want to be clever; he’ll be duke,” said Mrs. Massarene, intending no sarcasm. “I can’t think, ma’am, as your noble husband would like to toil and moil in the City.” “No--no; but to be on things, you know,” answered her visitor vaguely. “You send Mr. Massarene to me and we’ll talk about it. He mustn’t mind if Lord Kenilworth only gives his name and never shows.” Mrs. Massarene’s was a slow brain and a dull one, but she was not really stupid; in some matters she was shrewd, and she began dimly to perceive what was expected of her and her William, and what _quid pro quo_ would be demanded by this lovely lady who had the keys of society if she used any of these keys in their favor; she had had glimmerings of this before, but it had never presented itself before her so clearly as now. She had sense enough, however, to keep the discovery to herself. “I’ll tell Mr. Massarene, ma’am,” she said meekly, “and I know he’ll be very proud to wait on you. Shall it be to-morrow?” “Yes; to-morrow, before luncheon. About half-past twelve.” “I won’t forget, ma’am.” “And I’ll come and dine with you next week. I’ll bring some people, my sisters; they won’t mind, Carrie certainly won’t. Lady Wisbeach, you know. What day? Oh, I don’t know. I must go home and look at my book. I think there is something of no importance that I can throw over next week.”