"You must know that I have been entirely successful," Mary said gaily. Lady Dashwood had never heard her speak in this tone of voice before. "I have bearded the lioness in her den and actually got the better of her. I am more than pleased with the success of my scheme and the way in which I have worked it out, Lady Dashwood. Please don't tell me that you are going back home by an early train." "I should like to go back at once and take you with me, child," Lady Dashwood said. "You don't know how lonely I am without you! And yet I am quite sure that you are learning a valuable lesson in these sordid surroundings." Mary's face flushed with pleasure. A few days before she would have resented a suggestion like that from Lady Dashwood or anybody else. Her mind had been closed to everything, had been too proud to learn. And now Lady Dashwood's remark was a compliment. "Yes," she said softly, "I am learning a great lesson--the lesson of humanity. It is astonishing how my mental vision has cleared already. I blush with shame to think of the uselessness of my past life. But you will come with me and see the dear companions who have taught me this lesson?" "I think I will," Lady Dashwood said, "I need not get home till the last train. I have half promised to dine informally with an old friend of mine in Stratton Street. I shall have plenty of time to see your friends. I am quite sure that they are ladies; you could not be happy with them otherwise." "Oh, they are," Mary cried, "and now I am going to tell you all about them and their hopes and ambitions. Grace's story is quite a pretty romance in its way. It will tell you all about her, so that you need not betray your lack of knowledge." Mary rambled on in a pleasant way until the cab reached its destination. There was a pure, womanly ring in her voice that Lady Dashwood noted with gladness. She had always deemed Mary too hard and cold, too unsympathetic to the weaknesses and failings of other people. The elder lady's eyes were moist as she descended from the cab, and Mary guessed the reason. And then it came to her, too, that she would have been glad if Ralph Darnley had been with them. CHAPTER XLV. THE WALLS OF PRIDE "Now I must get you to pay for the cab," Mary went on in the same gay voice, "for I haven't the money, at least, not in my pocket. You will find the place very small and mean, but it is not quite so bad as some of the cottages on the Dashwood estate. If ever good fortune took me back there as mistress I should do a great deal with the cottages on the place. I begin to understand now how trying is the lot of the poor. But I am dreaming again. Please come this way." Grace Cameron lay on a couch in the window getting as much fresh air as possible. Towards her Lady Dashwood looked with special interest, for Mary had told Grace's story at some length. The girl flushed as she noted the striking personality of her visitor. She essayed to rise from the sofa.