She was enmeshed in a net of sorrow from which there was no escape.

In order to stifle any hints or rumours which might have got about Melkbridge of Mavis having been a mother without being a wife, she was pressed by the Devitts to make a stay of some length at Melkbridge House.  Guessing the reason of this invitation, she accepted, although she, as well as her husband, were eager to get into a quaint, weather-beaten farmhouse which Harold had bought in the neighbourhood.

To make her stay as tolerable as possible, Mavis set herself to win the hearts of the Devitt family, the feminine members of which, she was convinced, were bitterly hostile to her.  The men of the household, to the scarcely concealed dismay of the women, quickly came over to her side.  Lowther she appreciated at his worth; her studied indifference to him went a long way towards securing that youth’s approval, which was not unmingled with admiration for her person.  Montague she was beginning to like.  For his part, he was quickly sensible of the feminine distinction which Mavis’s presence bestowed upon his home.  The fine figure she cut in evening dress at dinner parties, when the Devitts feasted their world; her conversation in the drawing-room afterwards; the emotion she put into her playing and singing (it was the only expression Mavis could give to the abiding griefs gnawing at her heart), were social assets of no small value, which Devitt was the first to appreciate.  Mrs Harold Devitt’s appearance and parts gave to his assemblies a piquancy which was sadly lacking when his friends repaid his hospitality.  Mavis, also, pointed out to Devitt the advisability of rescuing from the lumber rooms several fine old pieces of furniture which were hidden away in disgrace, largely because they had belonged to Montague’s humble grandfather.  The handiwork of Chippendale and Hepplewhite was furbished up and put about the house, replacing Tottenham Court Road monstrosities.  When the old furniture epidemic presently seized upon Melkbridge, the Devitts could flatter themselves that they had done much to influence local fashion in the matter.

Montague came to take pleasure in Mavis’s society, when he would drop his blustering manner to become his kindly self.  They had many long talks together, which enabled Mavis to realise the loneliness of the man’s life.  The more Montague saw of her the more he disliked his son-in-law’s share in the paternity of Mavis’s dead child.

Now and again he would discuss business worries with her, which established a community of interest between them.  His friendship gave Mavis confidence in her endeavours to placate the female Devitts.  This latter was uphill work:  Mrs Devitt and her sister entrenched themselves in a civil reserve which resisted Mavis’s most strenuous assaults.  With Victoria, Mavis believed, at first, that she had better luck, Mrs Charlie Perigal’s sentiments and manner of expressing them being all that the most exigent fancy might desire; but as time wore on, Mavis got no further with her sister-in-law; she could never feel that she and Victoria had a single heart beat in common.