"Well, you can oblige me in a little matter I have much at heart."
"Only name it," he cried, earnestly.
"Come and dine with me to-night in Thistle Grove."
"Is that all? I accept with enthusiasm."
"Only a small party: four at the most. You know I am still in deepest mourning. My poor dear general—" she dropped her voice and her eyes.
"Ah!" said Mr. Faulks, sympathetically; "you have known great sorrows. But you must not brood, dear lady: we should struggle with grief." He took her hand, and looked at her in a kindly, pitying way.
The moment was ill-timed for interruption, but the blame was Sir Humphrey's, who now sent the messenger with a fresh and more imperious summons for the attendance of Mr. Faulks.
He got up hurriedly, nervously, saying—
"I must leave you, dear lady; there are matters of great urgency to be dealt with to-day."
"No apologies: it's my fault for trespassing here. I will run away. To-night—do not forget me, at eight," and Mrs. Wilders took her departure.