Hester felt much better, thanks.

“And what lovely flowers!”

Hester suggested, with diffidence, that they would look pretty in the drawing-room.

“I think,” said Mrs. Gresley, who had thought the same till that instant, “that they would look best in the hall.”

“And the rest of the family,” said Hester, whose face had fallen a little.  “Where are they?”

“The children have just come in.  They will be down directly.  Come back to me, Toddy; you are boring your aunt.  And James is in his study.”

“Is he busy, or may I go in and speak to him?”

“He is not busy.  He is expecting you.”

Hester gathered up her rejected flowers and rose.  She felt as if she had been back at Warpington a year—­as if she had never been away.

She stopped a moment in the hall to look at her letters, and laid down her flowers beside them.  Then she went on quickly to the study, and tapped at the door.

“Come in,” said the well-known voice.

Mr. Gresley was found writing.  Hester instantly perceived that it was a pose, and that he had taken up the pen when he heard her tap.

Her spirits sank a peg lower.

“He is going to lecture me about something,” she said to herself, as he kissed her.

“Have you had tea?  It is choir practice this evening, and we don’t have supper till nine.”

Hester had had tea before she started.

“And you are not cold?”

On the contrary, Hester was quite warm, thanks.  Bishop, foot-warmer, etc.

“You are looking much stronger.”

Hester felt much stronger.  Certainly married people grew very much alike by living together.

Mr. Gresley hesitated.  He never saw the difficulties entailed by any action until they were actually upon him.  He had had no idea he would find it wellnigh impossible to open a certain subject.

Hester involuntarily came to his assistance.

“Well, perhaps I ought to look at my letters.  By the way, there ought to be a large package for me from Bentham.  It was not with my letters.  Perhaps you sent it to my room.”

“It did arrive,” said Mr. Gresley, “and perhaps I ought to apologize, for I saw my name on it and I opened it by mistake.  I was expecting some more copies of my Modern Dissent.”

“It does not matter.  I have no doubt you put it away safely.  Where is it?”

“Having opened it, I glanced at it.”

“I am surprised to hear that,” said Hester, a pink spot appearing on each cheek, and her eyes darkening.  “When did I give you leave to read it?”

Mr. Gresley looked dully at his sister, and went on without noticing her question.

“I glanced at it.  I do not see any difference between reading a book in manuscript or in print.  I don’t pretend to quibble on a point like that.  After looking at it, I felt that it was desirable I should read the whole.  You may remember, Hester, that I showed you my Modern Dissent.  If I did not make restrictions, why should you?”