Canon Birch started nervously, and the doctor frowned at him.

“At eleven o’clock,” said John, in steady tones; and, as he spoke, Sir Timothy entered the hall.

CHAPTER IV

“Some tea, Timothy?” said Lady Mary.

“If you please, my dear,” said Sir Timothy, dropping his letters into the box.

“I am afraid the tea will be little better than poison, brother,” said Lady Belstone, in warning tones; “it has stood so long.”

“Perhaps dear Mary intends to order fresh tea, Isabella,” said Miss Crewys.

“It hasn’t stood so very long,” said Lady Mary, looking appealingly at Sir Timothy; “and you know Ash is always cross if we order fresh tea.”

“Excuse me, my love,” said Miss Crewys.  “I am the last to wish to trouble poor Ash unnecessarily, but the tea waited for ten minutes before you came down.”

“My dear Mary,” said Sir Timothy, “will you never learn to be punctual?  No; I will take it as it is.  Poor Ash has enough to do, as Georgina truly says.”

Lady Mary sighed rather impatiently, and it occurred to John Crewys that Sir Timothy spoke to his wife exactly as he might have addressed a troublesome child.  His tone was gentler than usual, but this John did not know.

“I should have liked to take a turn about the grounds with you,” said Sir Timothy to his cousin, “if it had been possible; but I am afraid it is getting too dark now.”

“Surely there will be time enough to-morrow morning for that, brother,” said Lady Belstone.

Sir Timothy had walked to the oriel window, but he turned away as he answered her.

“I may be otherwise occupied to-morrow.”

“But I hope the opportunity may arise before very long,” said John, cheerfully.  “I should like to explore these woods.”

“You will have to come with me, then,” said Lady Mary, smiling.  “Timothy hates walking uphill, and I should love to show our beautiful views to a stranger.”

“I do not like you to tire yourself, my dear,” said Sir Timothy.

“A walk through Barracombe woods means simply a climb, Mary,” said Lady Belstone; “and you are not strong.”

“I am perfectly robust, Isabella.  Do allow me at least the use of my limbs,” said Lady Mary, impatiently.

“No woman, certainly no lady, can be called robust,” said Miss Crewys, severely.

The sudden clanging of a bell changed the conversation.

“Visitors.  How tiresome!” said Lady Mary.

“My dear Mary!” said Sir Timothy.

“But I know it can’t be anybody pleasant, Timothy,” said his wife, with rather a mischievous twinkle, “for I owe calls to all the nice people, and it’s only the dull ones who come over and over again.”

“You owe calls, Mary!” said Lady Belstone, in horrified tones.

“I am afraid,” said Miss Crewys, considerately lowering her voice as the butler and footman crossed the hall to the outer vestibule, “that dear Mary is more than a little remiss in civility to her neighbours.”