“Her position is odious; a woman should not have to live like that, exposed to everyone’s foul gossip.”

“But, dear Grig, I don’t think she minds; she seemed to me in such excellent spirits.”

Gregory ran his fingers through his hair.

“Nobody understands her,” he said; “she’s so plucky!”

Mrs. Pendyce stole a glance at him, and a little ironical smile flickered over her face.

“No one can look at her without seeing her spirit.  But, Grig, perhaps you don’t quite understand her either!”

Gregory Vigil put his hand to his head.

“I must open the window a moment,” he said.

Again Mrs. Pendyce’s fingers began twisting, again she stilled them.

“We were quite a large party last week, and now there’s only Charles.  Even George has gone back; he’ll be so sorry to have missed you!”

Gregory neither turned nor answered, and a wistful look came into Mrs. Pendyce’s face.

“It was so nice for the dear boy to win that race!  I’m afraid he bets rather!  It’s such a comfort Horace doesn’t know.”

Still Gregory did not speak.

Mrs. Pendyce’s face lost its anxious look, and gained a sort of gentle admiration.

“Dear Grig,” she said, “where do you go about your hair?  It is so nice and long and wavy!”

Gregory turned with a blush.

“I’ve been wanting to get it cut for ages.  Do you really mean, Margery, that your husband can’t realise the position she’s placed in?”

Mrs. Pendyce fixed her eyes on her lap.

“You see, Grig,” she began, “she was here a good deal before she left the Firs, and, of course, she’s related to me—­though it’s very distant.  With those horrid cases, you never know what will happen.  Horace is certain to say that she ought to go back to her husband; or, if that’s impossible, he’ll say she ought to think of Society.  Lady Rose Bethany’s case has shaken everybody, and Horace is nervous.  I don’t know how it is, there’s a great feeling amongst people about here against women asserting themselves.  You should hear Mr. Barter and Sir James Maiden, and dozens of others; the funny thing is that the women take their side.  Of course, it seems odd to me, because so many of the Totteridges ran away, or did something funny.  I can’t help sympathising with her, but I have to think of—­of——­In the country, you don’t know how things that people do get about before they’ve done them!  There’s only that and hunting to talk of.”

Gregory Vigil clutched at his head.

“Well, if this is what chivalry has come to, thank God I’m not a squire!”

Mrs. Pendyce’s eyes flickered.

“Ah!” she said, “I’ve thought like that so often.”

Gregory broke the silence.

“I can’t help the customs of the country.  My duty’s plain.  There’s nobody else to look after her.”

Mrs. Pendyce sighed, and, rising from her chair, said:  “Very well, dear
Grig; do let us go and have some tea.”