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Some one came into the room as she lay in this pleasant quiet. She thought it was Jeremie coming to light the candles, and said nothing; but it was not so dignified a person as Mr. Jeremie, the Dean’s butler, who was generally taken for one of the Canons by visitors unacquainted with the place. This was indeed a shirt-front as dazzling as Jeremie’s which came into the soft gloom, but the owner of it was younger and taller, with a lighter step and less solemn demeanour. He gave a glance round the room to see if anyone was visible, then advanced steadily with the ease of an habitue among the sofas and tables. “Are you here, Aunt Caroline?” he said. “Oh, you are there! Shall I ring for lights? it must be dull sitting all by yourself in the dark.”

“If you please, my dear,” said Lady Caroline, who, having no will of her own to speak of, never set it in opposition to anybody else’s; answering a question as she did thus promptly, there was no occasion at the same time to answer a mere remark.