“The last telegram said his wound was doing well, but did not give any date for his return.  Young John says we may expect him any time.  I do not know what he knows about it more than any one else, however,” said Miss Crewys.

“His letters give no details about himself,” said Lady Belstone; “he makes no fuss about his wounded arm.  He is a thorough Crewys, not given to making a to-do about trifles.”

“He could only write a few words with his left hand,” said Miss Crewys; “more could not have been expected of him.  Yet poor Mary was quite put out, as I plainly saw, though she said nothing, because the boy had not written at greater length.”

“I find they’ve made a good many preparations for his welcome down in the village,” said the canon, “in case he should take us by surprise.  So many of the officers have got passages at the last moment, unexpectedly.  And we shall turn out to receive him en masse.  Mr. Crewys has given us carte blanche for fireworks and flags; and they are to have a fine bean-feast.”

“Our cousin John takes a great deal upon himself, and has made uncommonly free with Peter’s money,” said Lady Belstone, shaking her head.  “I wish he may not find himself pretty nigh ruined when he comes to look into his own affairs.  In my opinion, Fred Crawley is little better than a fool.”

“He is most devoted to Peter’s interests, my dear lady,” said the canon, warmly, “and he informed me that Mr. John Crewys had done wonders in the past two years.”

“He has turned the whole place topsy-turvy in two years, in my opinion,” said Miss Crewys.  “I don’t deny that he is a rising young man, and that his manners are very taking.  But what can a Cockney lawyer know, about timber, pray?”

“No man on earth, lawyer or no lawyer,” said Lady Belstone, emphatically, “will ever convince me that one can be better than well.”

“My sister alludes to the drains.  It is a sore point, canon,” said Miss Crewys.  “In my opinion, it is all this modern drainage that sets up typhoid fever, and nothing else.”

“Bless me!” said the canon.

“Our poor Mary has grown so dependent on John, however, that she will hear nothing against him.  One has to mind one’s p’s and q’s,” said Lady Belstone.

“He planned the alterations in this very hall,” said Miss Crewys, “and the only excuse he offered, so far as I could understand, was that it would amuse poor Mary to carry them out.”

“Does a widow wish to be amused?” said Lady Belstone, indignantly.

“And was she amused, dear lady?” asked the canon, anxiously.

“When she saw our horror and dismay she smiled.”

“Did you call that a smile, Georgina?  I called it a laugh.  It takes almost nothing to make her laugh nowadays.”

“You would not wish her to be too melancholy,” said the canon, almost pleadingly; “one so—­so charming, so—­”