Left alone, Lady Hetherington took a few minutes to recover herself. Her sister-in-law Caroline had always been a spoiled child, and accustomed to have her own way in the old home, in her own house when she married Mr. Mansergh--the richest, idlest, kindest old gentleman that ever slept in St. Stephen's first and in Glasnevin Cemetery scarcely more soundly afterwards--and generally everywhere since she had lost him. But she had been always remarkable for particularly sound sense, and had a manner of treating objectionably pushing people which succeeded in keeping them at a distance better even than the frigid hauteur which Lady Hetherington indulged in. The countess knew this, and, acknowledging it in her inmost heart, felt that she could make no great mistake in acceding to her sister-in-law's wishes. Moreover, she reflected, after all it was a mere small country-house dinner that day; there was no one expected about whose opinion she particularly cared; and as the man was domiciled in the house, was useful to Lord Hetherington, and was presentable, it was only right to show him some civility. So, after leaving the drawing-room on her way to dress for dinner, Lady Hetherington crossed the hall to the library, and at the far end of the room saw Mr. Joyce at work, under a shaded lamp. She went straight up to him, and was somewhat amused at finding that he, either not hearing her entrance, or imagining that it was merely some servant with a message, never raised his head, but continued grinding away at his manuscript. "Mr. Joyce!" said her ladyship, slightly bending forward. "Hey?" replied the scribe, in whose ear the tones, always haughty and imperious, however she might try to soften them, rang like a trumpet-call. "I beg your pardon, Lady Hetherington," he added, rising from his seat; "I had no idea you were in the room." "Don't disturb yourself, Mr. Joyce; I only looked in to say that we have a few friends coming to dinner tonight, and it will afford Lord Hetherington and myself much pleasure if you will join us." "I shall be most happy," said Mr. Joyce. And then Lady Hetherington returned his bow, and he preceded her down the room, and opened the door to let her pass. "As if he'd been a squire of dames from his cradle," said her ladyship to herself. "The man has good hands, I noticed, and there was no awkwardness about him."