"But you are as happy as Wilkins, surely."
"Query. It takes two to find happiness."
"What nonsense!" said Lillie.
She had been already so upset by the treachery and loss of the misunderstood Diana, that she felt ready to break down and shed hot tears over these heretical sentiments of Silverdale's. He had been so good, so patient. Why should he show the cloven hoof just to-day?
"Miss Dolly Vane," announced Turple the magnificent.
A strange apparition presented itself—an ancient lady quaintly attired. Her dress fell in voluminous folds—the curious full skirt was bordered with velvet, and there were huge lace frills on the elbow-sleeves. Her hair was smoothed over her ears and she wore a Leghorn hat. There were the remains of beauty on her withered face but her eyes were wild and wandering. She curtseyed to the couple with old-fashioned grace, and took the chair which Lord Silverdale handed her.
Lillie looked at her inquiringly.
"Have I the pleasure of speaking to Miss Dulcimer?" said the old lady. Her tones were cracked and quavering.
"I am Miss Dulcimer," replied Lillie. "What can I do for you?"
"Ah, yes, I have been reading about you in the Moon to-day. Wee Winnie and Lillie Dulcimer! Wee Winnie! It reminds me of myself. They call me Little Dolly, you know." She simpered in a ghastly manner.