“Isabel thinks I am going to destruction altogether,” said she, preparing another strawberry for its bath of cream; “only because I am thinking of going abroad with Lady Harriet Beaton.  Surely I have a right to arrange my own movements and to select my own friends.”

Mr. Enderby looked very grave.  “No one can deny your right to do as you please,” he said; “but I hope that on reflection you will not please to go abroad with Lady Harriet Beaton.”

“Why!”

“Surely you know she is not a desirable companion for you, Amy.  I hope you have not actually promised to accompany her.”

“Well, I think I have, almost.  She is very gay and charming, and I cannot think why you should object to her.  If I were a young girl of sixteen, instead of a widow with long experience, you could not make more fuss about the matter.”

“As your brother I am bound to object to such a scheme,” said Mr. Enderby.

Mrs. Rushton pouted.  “It is all very well for you and Isabel to talk,” she said, “you have each other and your children to interest you.  If I had children—­had only one child, I should not care for running about the world or making a companion of Lady Harriet.”

Mrs. Enderby looked at her sister-in-law sympathetically; but Mr. Enderby only smiled.

“My dear Amy,” he said, “you know very well that if you had children they would be the most neglected little mortals on the face of the earth.  Ever since I have known you, a good many years now, I have seen you fluttering about after one whim or another, and never found you contented with anything long.  If Phyllis and Nell here were your daughters instead of Isabel’s, they would be away at school somewhere, whilst their mother would be taking her turn upon all the merry-go-rounds of the world.”

“Thank you, you are very complimentary,” said Mrs. Rushton; and then she laughed carelessly: 

“After all, the merry-go-rounds, as you put it, are much better fun than sitting in a nursery or a school-room.  But I assure you I am not so frivolous as you think; I have been going out distributing tracts lately with Mrs. Sourby.”

“Indeed, and last winter I know you were attending lectures on cookery, and wanted to become a lecturer yourself.”

“Yes, and only for something that happened, I forget what, I might now be a useful member of society.  But chance does so rule one’s affairs.  At present it is Fate’s decree that I shall spend the next few months at Pontresina.”

Mr. Enderby made a gesture as if to say that he would remonstrate no more, and went off to play lawn tennis with his little girls.  Mrs. Rushton rose from her seat, yawned, and declared to Mrs. Enderby that it was six o’clock and quite time for her to return towards home, as she had a drive of two hours before her.

Shortly afterwards she was rolling along the avenue in her carriage, and through the village, and out by one of the roads towards the open country.