“I shall never know it.  But this,” thought Deb, “is a very Breen-like turn that the conversation is taking.  These people—­and Rose has become one of them—­have quite the tradesman’s idea of marriage.  Any ‘good, kind man’ will do.  They cannot be expected to understand.”  She watched Rose billowing down into her nursing-chair, and pretended to herself that she was not envious.  “It would have been a wildly-rash experiment to adopt this child, and I shall probably live to be thankful that my offer was refused,” she inwardly argued, while her beautiful eyes melted at the spectacle of the happy mother snuggling the babe to her bared breast.  “It is a charming little creature now, but it would probably grow up common, whatever its education and environment.  Blood will tell.  And if she took the name of Pennycuick, she could not pass it on.  After all, a boy is best.”

So Robert Goldsworthy remained in the position his gifts had gained for him.

After an admirable meal—­in the course of which Deb made herself most charming to her brother-in-law, while Rose retired as much as possible from the conversation, in order that he might shine to the best advantage—­those little matters of business that had been mentioned were discussed.  They were trifles invented for the purpose of compliments to Mr Breen, and the serious energy with which he applied himself to each case, and his exhaustive treatment of it, showed his thorough enjoyment of the part alloted to him by the distinguished woman who was so accomplished in the art of giving pleasure—­ especially to men.  Frankly, Deb always preferred a man to talk to, and she was agreeably surprised to find that Peter was very intelligent, and acquainted with several things beside shopkeeping.  Rose was simply enchanted to find herself ‘cut out’ by him.  When she was not stealing from the room to leave the coast clear, she was beaming over her needlework in the background, still as a mouse.  Not by word or look would she spoil his chance of proving to Deb what he really was—­how mistaken in him she and the others had been.

It was Peter who escorted the guest round the garden and stables, Mrs Peter excusing herself.  In the well-stocked greenhouse Miss Pennycuick, who was fond of flowers, obtained ‘wrinkles’ that she declared would be most valuable to her in the management of her Redford houses—­which she implied that he must see; in the interview with the carriage horse —­Rose had a little brougham, not, as her sisters supposed, for paying calls on other drapers’ wives, which she had small leisure for, but for shoppings and airings and taking children to dentists and pantomimes—­ Miss Pennycuick was instructive in her turn, feeling legs and advising about firing and bandages with the recognised authority of an expert.  Old Bruce, padding at his master’s heels, was greeted by name, patted and shaken hands with, as if he had never abetted rebels; and the discovery of a litter of choice puppies gave opportunity for the making of a little present, which was graciously received.