She chose to put up at a quiet hotel in Dover Street rather than accept Katherine’s and Miss Payne’s joint invitation to Wilton Street.

“I know you will not mind, Katie dear,” she said, as she sat at tea (to which refreshment she had invited her sister-in-law).  “You see if it were your own house, quite your own, I should prefer staying with you to going anywhere else.  As it is——­”

“You are quite right to please yourself,” put in Katherine.

“Yes, you are always kind and considerate.  But, do you know, both Colonel Ormonde and I are very anxious you should establish yourself on a proper footing.  Believe me, you do not take the social position you ought, living with an obscure old maid like Miss Payne”—­this in a tone of strong common-sense.  “The proper place for you is with us at Castleford in the autumn and winter, and a house in town with us in the spring.  Then you and I might go abroad sometimes together, and leave Ormonde to his turnips and hunting.  You would be sure to marry well—­quite sure.”

“But I am going to settle myself in a house of my own this spring,” said Katherine, smiling.

Against this project Mrs. Ormonde exhausted herself in eloquent if contradictory argument:  but finding she made no impression, suddenly changed the subject.  “That is a very expensive school you have chosen for the boys, Katherine.  ’Duke thinks it ridiculous.  Sixty pounds a year for such a little fellow as Cis! and now Charlie will cost as much.”

“It is not cheap, certainly; but it is, I think, worth the money.  Cecil has improved marvellously, and Sandbourne agrees so well with them both.”

“You will do as you think best, of course.  We have the highest regard for your opinion.  But you must remember that what with clothes and travelling and—­oh, and doctors!—­it all comes to more than three hundred a year, and at Castleford I could keep them for next to nothing, while the stingy trustees you have chosen only allow me four hundred and fifty.”

“So you have only about a hundred and fifty out of the total for your personal expenses, eh?” said Katherine, laughing.  “Then you have a husband behind you.”

“Oh, I assure you that does not count for much.  ’Duke doesn’t care to spend money, and my having something of my own makes matters wonderfully smooth.  I am sure you would not like to make any unhappiness between us.”

“No, certainly not.  I think it quite right, as my brother’s widow, you should have something for yourself as long as you live.”

“You really have a great sense of justice, Katherine, I must say!  Living as you do, dear, you can form no idea what it costs to present an appearance when you are in a certain set.”

“I don’t suppose I ever shall, though I like nice clothes too.”

“And look so well in them!” added Mrs. Ormonde, who was always ready, when she deemed it necessary, to burn the incense of flattery on her sister-in-law’s shrine.  “By-the-way, that is a very pretty, well-made costume you have on.  I think you are slighter than you used to be.”