I could not recommend him. It was Mrs. Ellicott Millidew who inquired."
"The young one or the old one?" inquired Miss Emsdale quickly.
"The elder Mrs. Millidew," said Mr. Cricklewick, in a tone that implied deference to a lady who was entitled to it, even when she was not within earshot. "Not the pretty young widow," he added, risking a smile.
"That's all right, then," said Miss Emsdale briskly. "I am sure it would be a most satisfactory place for him."
"But she is a very exacting old lady," said he, "and will require references."
"I am sure you can give him the very best of references," said she. "She couldn't ask for anything better than your word that he is a splendid man in every particular. Thank you so much, Mr. Cricklewick. And Lord Temple will be ever so grateful to you too, I'm sure. Oh, you cannot possibly imagine how relieved I am—about everything. We are very great friends. Lord Temple and I."
He watched the faint hint of the rose steal into her cheeks and a velvety softness come into her eyes.
"Nothing could be more perfect," he said, irrelevantly, but with real feeling, and the glow of the rose deepened.
"Thank you again,—and good-bye," she said, turning toward the door.
It was then that the punctilious Cricklewick forgot himself, and in his desire to be courteous, committed a most unpardonable offence.
"My motor is waiting. Lady Jane," he said, the
