'And Mrs. Cadurcis?' inquired Lady Annabel.
'Was an heiress,' replied the Doctor, 'and the late Mr. Cadurcis a spendrift. He was a bad manager, and, worse, a bad husband. Providence was pleased to summon him suddenly from this mortal scene, but not before he had dissipated the greater part of his wife's means. Mrs. Cadurcis, since she was a widow, has lived in strict seclusion with her little boy, as you may, my dear lady, with your dear little girl. But I am afraid,' said the Doctor, shaking his head, 'she has not been in the habit of dining so well as we have to-day. A very limited income, my dear madam; a very limited income indeed. And the guardians, I am told, will only allow the little lord a hundred a-year; but, on her own income, whatever it may be, and that addition, she has resolved to live at the abbey; and I believe, I believe she has it rent-free; but I don't know.'
'Poor woman!' said Lady Annabel, and not without a sigh. 'I trust her child is her consolation.'
Venetia had not spoken during this conversation, but she had listened to it very attentively. At length she said, 'Mamma, is not a widow a wife that has lost her husband?'
'You are right, my dear,' said Lady Annabel, rather gravely.
Venetia mused a moment, and then replied, 'Pray, mamma, are you a widow?'
'My dear little girl,' said Dr. Masham, 'go and give that beautiful peacock a pretty piece of cake.'
Lady Annabel and the Doctor rose from the table with Venetia, and took a turn in the park, while the Doctor's horses were getting ready.
'I think, my good lady,' said the Doctor, 'it would be but an act of
Christian charity to call upon Mrs. Cadurcis.'
'I was thinking the same,' said Lady Annabel; 'I am interested by what you have told me of her history and fortunes. We have some woes in common; I hope some joys. It seems that this case should indeed be an exception to my rule.'