Egremont had his pleasure in regarding her face, nobly beautiful as she moved her eyes from one to another of her poor little pensioners. She had said at first that it would be impossible ever again to live in this house, when she quitted it for a time after her husband's death. How could she pass through the barren rooms, how dwell within sight and sound of the treacherous waves which had taken her dearest? It was a royal thought which converted the sad dwelling into a home for those whose reawakening laughter would chide despondency from beneath the roof; whose happiness would ease the heavy heart and make memory a sacred solace. She had her abounding reward, and such as only the greatly loving may attain to. They withdrew without having excited attention; Mrs. Mapper saw them, but Mrs. Ormonde made sign to her to say nothing. 'Two are upstairs, I'm sorry to say,' she remarked as they went back to the drawing-room. 'They have obstinate colds; I keep them under the bed-clothes. The difficulty these poor things have in getting rid of a cold! With many of them I believe such a condition is chronic; it goes on, I suppose, until they die of it.' They talked together till luncheon time. Egremont led the conversation back to Ullswater, where Mrs. Ormonde had just spent a fortnight. 'I think I must go and see them at Christmas,' he said, 'if they don't come south.' The other considered. 'Don't go so soon,' she said at length. 'So soon? It will be six mortal months.' 'Be advised.' Egremont sighed and left the subject. 'Tell me what you have been doing of late,' Mrs. Ormonde resumed, 'apart from your lectures.' 'Very little of which any account can be rendered. I read a good deal, and occasionally come across an acquaintance.' 'Have you seen the Tyrrells since they returned?' 'No. I had an invitation to dine with them the other day, but excused myself.' 'On what grounds?' 'I mean to see less of people in general.' Mrs. Ormonde regarded him. 'I hope,' she said, 'that you will pursue no such idea. You mean, of course, that your Lambeth work is to be absorbing. Let it be so, but don't fall into the mistake of making it your burden. You are not one of those who can work in solitude.' 'I am getting a distaste for ordinary society.' 'Then I beg of you to resist the mood. Go into society freely. You are in danger as soon as you begin to neglect it.' 'I, individually?' 'Yes.' She smiled at the deprecating look he turned on her. 'Let me be your moral physician. Already I notice that you fall short of perfect health: the refusal of that invitation is a symptom. Pray give faith to what I say; if any one knows you, I think it is I.' He kept silence. Mrs. Ormonde continued: 'I hear that the Tyrrells have made the acquaintance of Mr. Dalmaine. Paula mentions him in a letter.' 'Ha! With enthusiasm probably?' 'No. They met him somewhere in Switzerland. He gave them the benefit of his experience on the education question.'