“A matter of opinion!” said Fielding.  “How would you like to go over and see the cricket at Fairharbour this afternoon?”

She gave him a quick look.  “Oh, is that the alternative to the races?”

He frowned.  “I have already told you the races are out of the question.”

“I see,” said Juliet thoughtfully.  “Then I am afraid the cricket-match is also—­unless Mrs. Fielding wants to go.”

“I’ll make her go,” said squire.

“No!  No!  Don’t make her do anything—­please!” begged Juliet.  “That is just the worst mistake you could possibly make.  To be honest, I would rather—­much—­go to the open-air concert at High Shale this evening.”

“Along with those rowdy miners?” growled the squire.  “I see enough of them on the Bench.  Green of course is cracked on that subject.  He’d like to set the world in order if he could.”

“I admire his enterprise,” said Juliet.

He nodded.  “So do I. He’s cussed as a mule, but he’s a goer.  He’s also a gentleman.  Have you noticed that?”

She smiled.  “Of course I have.”

“And I can’t get my wife to see it,” said the squire.  “Just because—­by his own idiotic choice—­he occupies a humble position, she won’t allow him a single decent quality.  She classes them all together, when anyone can see—­anyone with ordinary intelligence can see—­that he is of a totally different standing from those brothers of his.  He is on another plane altogether.  It’s self-evident.  You see it at once.”

“Yes,” said Juliet.

He moved restlessly.  “I would have placed him in his proper sphere if he’d consented to it.  But he wouldn’t.  It’s a standing grievance between us.  That fellow Robin is a millstone round his neck.  Miss Moore,” he turned on her suddenly, “you have a wonderful knack of making people see reason.  Couldn’t you persuade him to let Robin go?”

“Oh no!” said Juliet quickly.  “It’s the very last thing I would attempt to do.”

“Really!” He looked at her in genuine astonishment.

Juliet flushed.  “But of course!” she said.  “They belong to each other.  How could Mr. Green possibly part with him?  You wouldn’t—­surely—­think much of him if he did?”

“I think he’s mad not to,” declared the squire.  “But,” he smiled at her, “I think it’s uncommonly kind of you to take that view, all the same.  I’ll take you to that concert to-night if you really want to go.”

“Will you?  How kind!” said Juliet, turning to go.  “But you won’t mind if I consult Mrs. Fielding first?  I must do that.”

He opened the door for her.  “You are not to spoil her now,” he said.  “She’s been spoilt all her life by everybody.”

“Except by you,” said Juliet daringly.

And with that parting shot she left him, swiftly traversing the hall to the stairs without looking back.

The squire stood for some seconds looking after her.  She had opposed him at practically every point, and yet she had not offended him.