‘What will become of that poor child?’ she asked one evening, when Hubert had been speaking of Rodman’s impracticable attitude, and of the proceedings Mutimer was about to take.  ’Do you know anything of her life, Hubert?’

‘I met her in the wood here a few weeks ago,’ he replied, mentioning the incident for the first time.  ’She wanted to make a Socialist of me.’

‘Was that after the will came to light?’

’The day after.  She pleaded for New Wanley—­hoped I should keep it up.’

‘Then she has really accepted her husband’s views?’

‘It seems so.  I am afraid she thought me an obstinate tyrant.’

He spoke carelessly.

‘But she must not suffer, dear.  How can they be helped?’

’They can’t fall into absolute want.  And I suppose his Socialist friends will do something for him.  I have been as considerate as it was possible to be.  I dare say he will make me a commonplace in his lectures henceforth, a type of the brutal capitalist.’

He laughed when he had said it, and led the conversation to another subject.

About the workmen, too, Mrs. Eldon was kindly thoughtful.  Hubert spared her his prejudices and merely described what he was doing.  She urged him to be rather too easy than too exacting with them.  It was the same in everything; the blessing which had fallen upon her made her full of gentleness and sweet charity.

The fortnight’s grace was at an end, and it was announced to Hubert that the last family had left New Wanley.  The rain still continued; as evening set in Hubert returned from an inspection of the deserted colony, his spirits weighed upon by the scene of desolation.  After dinner he sat as usual with his mother for a couple of hours, then went to his own room and read till eleven o’clock.  Just as he had thrown aside his book the silence of the night was riven by a terrific yell, a savage cry of many voices, which came from the garden in the front of the house, and at the same instant there sounded a great crashing of glass.  The windows behind his back were broken and a couple of heavy missiles thundered near him upon the floor—­stones they proved to be.  He rushed from the room.  All the lights in the house except his own and that in Mrs. Eldon’s room were extinguished.  He reached his mother’s door.  Before he could open it the yell and the shower of stones were repeated, again with ruin of windows, this time on the east side of the Manor.  In a moment he was by his mother’s bed; he saw her sitting up in terror; she was speechless and unable even to stretch her arms towards him.  An inner door opened and the woman who was always in attendance rushed in half dressed.  At the same time there were sounds of movement in other parts of the house.  Once more the furious voices and the stone-volley Hubert put his arms about his mother and tried to calm her.

’Don’t be frightened; it’s those cowardly roughs.  They have had their three shots, now they’ll take to their heels.  Mrs. Winter is here, mother:  she will stay with you whilst I go down and see what has to be done.  I’ll be back directly if there is no more danger.’