Sadie noticed that her companion was more solidly booted, and that her straight, short skirts, although less stylish than her own, had a certain character, better fitted to the freer outdoor life of the country.  But she only said, however, “The village will do,” and gayly took her companion’s arm.

“But I’m afraid you’ll find it very uninteresting, for I am going to visit some poor cottages,” persisted Miss Amelyn, with a certain timid ingenuousness of manner which, however, was as distinct as Miss Desborough’s bolder frankness.  “I promised the rector’s daughter to take her place to-day.”

“And I feel as if I was ready to pour oil and wine to any extent,” said Miss Desborough, “so come along!”

Miss Amelyn laughed, and yet glanced around her timidly, as if she thought that Miss Desborough ought to have a larger and more important audience.  Then she continued more confidentially and boldly, “But it isn’t at all like ‘slumming,’ you know.  These poor people here are not very bad, and are not at all extraordinary.”

“Never mind,” said Sadie, hurrying her along.  After a pause she went on, “You know the Priory very well, I guess?”

“I lived there when I was a little girl, with my aunt, the Dowager Lady Beverdale,” said Miss Amelyn.  “When my cousin Fred, who was the young heir, died, and the present Lord Beverdale succeeded,—­he never expected it, you know, for there were two lives, his two elder brothers, besides poor Fred’s, between, but they both died,—­we went to live in the Dower House.”

“The Dower House?” repeated Sadie.

“Yes, Lady Beverdale’s separate property.”

“But I thought all this property—­the Priory—­came into the family through her.”

“It did—­this was the Amelyns’ place; but the oldest son or nearest male heir always succeeds to the property and title.”

“Do you mean to say that the present Lord Beverdale turned that old lady out?”

Miss Amelyn looked shocked.  “I mean to say,” she said gravely, “Lady Beverdale would have had to go when her own son became of age, had he lived.”  She paused, and then said timidly, “Isn’t it that way in America?”

“Dear no!” Miss Desborough had a faint recollection that there was something in the Constitution or the Declaration of Independence against primogeniture.  “No! the men haven’t it all their own way there—­not much!”

Miss Amelyn looked as if she did not care to discuss this problem.  After a few moments Sadie continued, “You and Lord Algernon are pretty old friends, I guess?”

“No,” replied Miss Amelyn.  “He came once or twice to the Priory for the holidays, when he was quite a boy at Marlborough—­for the family weren’t very well off, and his father was in India.  He was a very shy boy, and of course no one ever thought of him succeeding.”