28 The Real Charlotte. 



hung over her eyes intimated that she had tried to curl her 

 fringe for dinner. 



Neither were speaking ; it seemed as if Mr Lambert were 

 placidly awaiting the arrival of his usual after-dinner sleep ; 

 the Maltese terrier was already snoring plethorically on his 

 mistress's lap, in a manner quite disproportioned to his size, 

 and Mrs. Lambert's crochet needles were moving more and 

 more slowly through the mazes of the " bosom friend " that 

 she was making for herself, the knowledge that the minute 

 hand of the black marble clock was approaching the hour 

 at which she took her postprandial pill alone keeping her 

 from also yielding to the soft influences of a substantial 

 meal. At length she took the box from the little table be- 

 side her, where it stood between a bottle of smelling-salts 

 and a lump of camphor, and having sat with it in her hand 

 till the half hour was solemnly boomed from the chimney- 

 piece, swallowed her pill with practised ease. At the slight 

 noise of replacing the box, her husband opened his eyes. 



" By the way, Lucy," he said in a voice that had no trace 

 of drowsiness in it, " did Charlotte Mullen say what she was 

 going to do to-morrow ? " 



"Oh, yes, Roderick," replied Mrs. Lambert a little 

 anxiously, "indeed, I was wanting to tell you — Charlotte 

 asked me if I could drive her over to Mrs. Waller's to- 

 morrow afternoon. I forgot to ask you before if you wanted 

 the horses." 



Mr. Lambert's fine complexion deepened by one or two 

 shades. 



" Upon my soul, Charlotte Mullen has a gooa cheek ! 

 She gets as much work out of my horses as I do myself. I 

 suppose you told her you'd do it ? " 



" Well, what else could I do ? " replied Mrs. Lambert 

 with tremulous crossness ; " I'm sure it's not once in the 

 month I get outside the place, and, as for Charlotte, she has 

 not been to the Waller's since before Christmas, and you 

 know very well old Captain couldn't draw her eight miles 

 there and eight miles back any more than the cat." 



" Cat be hanged ! Why the devil can't she put her hand 

 in her pocket and take a car for herself ? " said Lambert, 

 uncrossing his legs and sitting up straight ; " I suppose I'll 

 hear next that I'm not to order out my own horses till I've 



