"Very well, then, Constance," said Eva, and kissing the pouting widow she escaped to her own room. Mrs. Palmer was kind and generous, and made her position more pleasant than she expected. But Mrs. Palmer was also foolish in many ways, particularly in her worship of rank. Because Lord Saltars had a title she was willing to overlook his deficiencies, though he was neither intellectual nor amusing. Eva really liked Mrs. Palmer and felt indebted to her, but she wished the widow's good taste had led her to refuse Saltars permission to call. But there--as Mrs. Merry would say--Mrs. Palmer not being a gentlewoman had no inherent good taste. But for her kind heart she would have been intolerable. However, Eva hoped to improve her into something better, by gentle means, though Constance with her loud tastes and patent tuft-hunting was a difficult subject. As she was in mourning for her father, Eva dressed in the same black gauze gown in which she had hoped to welcome him, but without any touch of colour on this occasion. As she went down the stairs, she hoped that Mrs. Palmer would be in the room to welcome her noble visitor, so as to save the embarrassment of a _tête-à-tête_. But Mrs. Palmer was one of those women who never know the value of time, and when Eva entered the drawing-room she found herself greeted by a short, square-built jovial-looking man of forty. Saltars was perfectly dressed and looked a gentleman, but his small grey eyes, his red, clean-shaven face and remarkably closely clipped hair did not, on the whole, make up a good-looking man. As soon as he saw Eva, he strolled forward calmly and eyed her critically. "How are you, Miss Strode?--or shall I say Cousin Eva?" "I think Miss Strode is sufficient," said Eva, seating herself. "I am sorry Mrs. Palmer is not down yet." "By Jove, I'm not," said Saltars, taking possession of a near chair. "I want to have a talk with you." "This is hardly the hour or the place." "Come now, Miss Strode--if you will insist on being so stiff--you needn't be too hard on a chap. I know I should have called, and I quite intended to do so, but I had reasons----" "I don't ask for your reasons, Lord Saltars." The man clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "We don't seem to get on," he said at length, "yet I wish to be friendly. See here, I want my mother to call and see you." "If Lady Ipsen calls, I shall be pleased." "In a society way, but you won't be heart-pleased." "No," said Eva, very decidedly; "how can you expect me to? Your family has not treated me or my dead father well." "Your father----" Saltars clicked again and seemed on the point of saying something uncomplimentary of the dead; but a gleam in his companion's eye made him change his mind. "I know you've been a bit neglected, and I'm very sorry it should be so," said he bluntly. "I assure you that it was always my wish you should be invited to stop with us in Buckinghamshire. And my father was in favour of it too."