"Then you do not disapprove of me as a mother."

"My dear Mrs. Jasher," said Lucy, coldly, "there is no relationship between me and my step-father beyond the fact that he married my mother. Therefore you can never be my mother. Were I stopping on at the Pyramids, that question might arise, but as I become Mrs. Hope in six months, we can be friends--nothing more."

"I am quite content with that," said Mrs. Jasher in a businesslike way.

"After all, I am no sentimentalist. But I am glad that you do not mind my marrying the Professor, as I don't want you to prevent the match, my dear."

Lucy laughed.

"I a.s.sure you that I have no influence with my father, Mrs. Jasher. He will marry you if he thinks fit and without consulting me. But," added the girl with emphasis, "I do not see what you gain in becoming Mrs.

Braddock."

"I may become Lady Braddock," said the widow, dryly. Then, in answer to the open astonishment on Lucy's face, she hastened to remark: "Do you mean to say that you don't know your father is heir to a baronetcy?"

"Oh, I know that," rejoined Miss Kendal. "The Professor's brother, Sir Donald Braddock, is an old man and unmarried. If he dies without heirs, as it seems likely, the Professor will certainly take the t.i.tle."

"Well, then, there you are!" cried Mrs. Jasher, in her liveliest tone.

"I want to give my legacy for the t.i.tle and preside over a scientific salon in London."

"I understand. But you will never get my father to live in London."

"Wait until I marry him," said the little woman shrewdly. "I'll make a man of him. I know, of course, that mummies and sepulchral ornaments and those sort of horrid things are dull, but the Professor will become Sir Julian Braddock, and that is enough for me. I don't love him, of course, as love between two elderly people is absurd, but I shall make him a good wife, and with my money he can take his proper position in the scientific world, which he doesn't occupy at present. I would rather he had been artistic, as science is so dull. However, I am getting on in years and wish to have some amus.e.m.e.nt before I die, so I must take what I can get. What do you say?"

"I am quite agreeable, as, when I leave, someone must look after my father, else he will be shamefully robbed by everyone in household matters. We are good friends, so why not you as well as another."

"You are a dear girl," said Mrs. Jasher with a sigh of relief, and kissed Lucy fondly. "I am sure we shall get on excellently."

"At a distance. The artistic world doesn't touch on the scientific, you know. And you forget, Mrs. Jasher, that my father wishes to go to Egypt to explore this mysterious tomb."

Mrs. Jasher nodded.

"Yes, I promised, when I came in for my brother's money, to help the Professor to fit out his expedition. But it seems to me that the money will be better spent in offering a reward so that the mummy can be found."

"Well," said Lucy, laughing, "you can give the Professor his choice."

"Before marriage, not after. He needs to be managed, like all men."

"You will not find him easy to manage," said Lucy dryly. "He is a very obstinate man, and quite feminine in his persistency."

"H'm! I recognize that he is a difficult character, and between you and me dear, I should not marry him but for the t.i.tle. It sounds rather like an adventuress talking in this way, but, after all, if he makes me Lady Braddock I can give him enough money to let him realize his desire of getting the mummy back. It's six of one and half a dozen of the other.

And I'll be good to him: you need not fear."

"I am quite sure that, good or bad, the Professor will have his own way.

It is not his happiness I am thinking of so much as yours."

"Really. Here is the tea. Put the table near the fire, Jane, between Miss Kendal and myself. Thank you. The m.u.f.fins on the fender. Thank you.

No, there is nothing more. Close the door when you go out."

The tea equippage having been arranged, Mrs. Jasher poured out a cup of Souchong, and handed it to her guest, resuming the subject of her proposed marriage meanwhile.

"I don't see why you should be anxious about me, dear. I am quite able to look after myself. And the Professor seems to be kind-hearted enough."

"Oh, he is kind-hearted when he gets his own way. Give him his hobby and he will never bother you. But he won't live in London, and he will not consent to this salon you wish to inst.i.tute."

"Why not? It means fame to him. I shall gather round me all the scientists of London and make my house a centre of interest. The Professor can stop in his laboratory if he likes. As his wife, I can do all that is necessary. Well, my dear"--Mrs. Jasher took a cup of tea--"we need not talk the subject threadbare. You do not disapprove of my marriage with your step-father, so you can leave the rest to me. If you can give me a hint of how to proceed to bring about this marriage, of course I am not above taking it."

Lucy glanced at the tea-gown.

"As you will have to tell the Professor that your brother is dead to account for possessing the money," she said pointedly, "I should advise you to go into mourning. Professor Braddock will be shocked otherwise."

"Dear me, what a tender heart he must have!" said Mrs. Jasher flippantly. "My brother was very little to me, poor man, so he cannot be anything to the Professor. However, I shall adopt your advice, and, after all, black suits me very well. There"--she swept her hands across the tea-table--"that is settled. Now about yourself?"

"Archie and I marry in the springtime."

"And your other admirer, who has come back?"

"Sir Frank Random?" said Lucy, coloring.

"Of course. He called to see me a day or so ago, and seems less broken-hearted than he should be."

Lucy nodded and colored still deeper.

"I suppose some other woman has consoled him."

"Of course. Catch a modern man wearing the willow for any girl, however dear. Are you angry?"

"Oh no, no."

"Oh yes, yes, I think," said the widow, laughing, "else you are no woman, my dear. I know I should be angry to see a man get over his rejection so rapidly."

"Who is she?" asked Lucy abruptly.

"Donna Inez de Gayangos."

"A Spaniard?"

"I believe so--a colonial Spaniard, at least--from Lima. Her father, Don Pedro de Gayangos, met Sir Frank in Genoa by chance."

"Well?" demanded Lucy impatiently.

Mrs. Jasher shrugged her plump shoulders.

"Well, my dear, can't you put two and two together. Of course Sir Frank fell in love with this dark-hued angel."

"Dark-hued! and I am light-haired. What a compliment!"

"Perhaps Sir Frank wanted a change. He played on white and lost, and therefore stakes his money on black to win. That's the result of having been at Monte Carlo. Besides, this young lady is rich, I understand, and Sir Frank--so he told me--lost much more money at Monte Carlo than he could afford. Well, you don't look pleased."

Lucy roused herself from a fit of abstraction.