A difficult task, even for her, wily woman as she was.
How was it to be done?
For three long hours the night after Lord Hartledon's death, she lay awake, thinking out her plans; perhaps for the first time in her life, for obtuse natures do not lie awake.

The death had affected her only as regarded her own interests; she could feel for none and regret none in her utter selfishness.

One was fallen, but another had risen up.

"Le roi est mort: vive le roi!" On the day following the death she had sought an interview with Percival.
Never a woman evinced better tact than she.

There was no violent change in her manner, no apologies for the past, or display of sudden affection.
She spoke quietly and sensibly of passing topics: the death, and what could have led to it; the immediate business on hand, some of the changes it entailed in the future.