It was now nearly ten years since Charles had fallen in love with Lilia Theobald because she was pretty, and during that time Mrs. Herriton had hardly known a moment’s rest.  For six months she schemed to prevent the match, and when it had taken place she turned to another task—­the supervision of her daughter-in-law.  Lilia must be pushed through life without bringing discredit on the family into which she had married.  She was aided by Charles, by her daughter Harriet, and, as soon as he was old enough, by the clever one of the family, Philip.  The birth of Irma made things still more difficult.  But fortunately old Mrs. Theobald, who had attempted interference, began to break up.  It was an effort to her to leave Whitby, and Mrs. Herriton discouraged the effort as far as possible.  That curious duel which is fought over every baby was fought and decided early.  Irma belonged to her father’s family, not to her mother’s.

Charles died, and the struggle recommenced.  Lilia tried to assert herself, and said that she should go to take care of Mrs. Theobald.  It required all Mrs. Herriton’s kindness to prevent her.  A house was finally taken for her at Sawston, and there for three years she lived with Irma, continually subject to the refining influences of her late husband’s family.

During one of her rare Yorkshire visits trouble began again.  Lilia confided to a friend that she liked a Mr. Kingcroft extremely, but that she was not exactly engaged to him.  The news came round to Mrs. Herriton, who at once wrote, begging for information, and pointing out that Lilia must either be engaged or not, since no intermediate state existed.  It was a good letter, and flurried Lilia extremely.  She left Mr. Kingcroft without even the pressure of a rescue-party.  She cried a great deal on her return to Sawston, and said she was very sorry.  Mrs. Herriton took the opportunity of speaking more seriously about the duties of widowhood and motherhood than she had ever done before.  But somehow things never went easily after.  Lilia would not settle down in her place among Sawston matrons.  She was a bad housekeeper, always in the throes of some domestic crisis, which Mrs. Herriton, who kept her servants for years, had to step across and adjust.  She let Irma stop away from school for insufficient reasons, and she allowed her to wear rings.  She learnt to bicycle, for the purpose of waking the place up, and coasted down the High Street one Sunday evening, falling off at the turn by the church.  If she had not been a relative, it would have been entertaining.  But even Philip, who in theory loved outraging English conventions, rose to the occasion, and gave her a talking which she remembered to her dying day.  It was just then, too, that they discovered that she still allowed Mr. Kingcroft to write to her “as a gentleman friend,” and to send presents to Irma.

Philip thought of Italy, and the situation was saved.  Caroline, charming, sober, Caroline Abbott, who lived two turnings away, was seeking a companion for a year’s travel.  Lilia gave up her house, sold half her furniture, left the other half and Irma with Mrs. Herriton, and had now departed, amid universal approval, for a change of scene.