Nevertheless, when he found himself alone in his chambers, thinking over the occurrences of the previous night, and over all that he had so recently heard of Lady Forestfield's trials and temptations, the desire to know something more of her and of the league which bound Eleanor Irvine to her arose more strongly than ever within him. He had chosen to express his agreement with what Frank Eardley had said about interference, partly in order to avoid a further discussion on the subject, and partly that he might not be suspected of carrying out his decided intention of moving in the matter. If he had been called upon to define the impulse which prompted him he could not have done so; but he had a vague idea that he might be able in some way and at some future time to be of assistance to this stricken woman; and under that influence he sat down and wrote the following letter:
'The Albany, Thursday night.
'Dear Lady Forestfield,--I have just returned to England, after a long absence, and, as is usually the case with wanderers, find that many of my familiar friends are no longer here to greet me, and many of the houses where I once was welcome are now in the hands of strangers. In my early days in London, when you were a very little child, Lady Stortford was good enough to distinguish me with her notice and her friendship, and it is impossible for me ever to forget the kindness which I received at her hands. Very frequently in my travels I had looked forward with sincere pleasure to the thought of meeting her again. As this is not to be, I have ventured to ask my friend Mr. Eardley for your address, and I write to express a hope that you will allow me as your mother's old friend to call upon you.--Sincerely yours,
'NUGENT UFFINGTON.'
'That reference to Eardley,' said Uffington to himself as he folded the letter, 'will let her know that I am in full possession of the facts of her story, and am not writing under any misapprehension. Take this,' he added, giving the note to his servant, 'early in the morning; and be sure to bring me back an answer.'
The next morning he found a small hand-delivered note lying on his breakfast table amongst the correspondence which the post had brought him. He seized upon it at once, and read as follows:
'Lady Forestfield will be happy to receive Sir Nugent Uffington between the hours of three and five on this or any other afternoon.'
To his own surprise and amusement, Uffington found himself making a more elaborate toilette than usual, and at the hour named he presented himself in Podbury-street.
Hitherto he had only had slight opportunity of seeing Lady Forestfield, and he had no idea she was so beautiful. She was very simply dressed in a plain muslin morning gown, and her whole appearance coincided with the neat and modest rooms in which she was living. Uffington was struck at once with the classical beauty of her head, with her wavy dark hair, taken off from her forehead and gathered in a clump behind, with her large lustrous melancholy eyes, and with her bright fresh colour. She received him kindly, but with some embarrassment, which he endeavoured at once to dissipate.
'You will probably have been surprised at the receipt of my letter, Lady Forestfield,' he said; 'but I fear it must be self-explanatory, as I have very little to add to it in justification of my desire to see you. I have always had the keenest remembrance of Lady Stortford's kindness, at a time when her support and countenance were most valuable to me; have always had a hope of thanking her for it; and when I found that was beyond my power, I desired to thank her representative.'