Sitting by her to-night was a boy with a crooked back—­Mount Dunstan remembered hearing that the Anstruthers had a deformed son—­and she was leaning towards him, her hand resting on his shoulder, explaining something he had not quite grasped in the action of the play.  The absolute adoration in the boy’s uplifted eyes was an interesting thing to take in, and the radiant warmth of her bright look was as unconscious of onlookers as it had been when he had seen it yearning towards the child on the wharf.  Hers was the temperament which gave—­which gave.  He found himself restraining a smile because her look brought back to him the actual sound of the New York youngster’s voice.

“I wanted to kiss you, Betty, oh, I did so want to kiss you!”

Anstruthers’ boy—­poor little beggar—­looked as if he, too, in the face of actors and audience, and brilliance of light, wanted to kiss her.

CHAPTER XX

THINGS OCCUR IN STORNHAM VILLAGE

It would not have been possible for Miss Vanderpoel to remain long in social seclusion in London, and, before many days had passed, Stornham village was enlivened by the knowledge that her ladyship and her sister had returned to the Court.  It was also evident that their visit to London had not been made to no purpose.  The stagnation of the waters of village life threatened to become a whirlpool.  A respectable person, who was to be her ladyship’s maid, had come with them, and her ladyship had not been served by a personal attendant for years.  Her ladyship had also appeared at the dinner-table in new garments, and with her hair done as other ladies wore theirs.  She looked like a different woman, and actually had a bit of colour, and was beginning to lose her frightened way.  Now it dawned upon even the dullest and least active mind that something had begun to stir.

It had been felt vaguely when the new young lady from “Meriker” had walked through the village street, and had drawn people to doors and windows by her mere passing.  After the return from London the signs of activity were such as made the villagers catch their breaths in uttering uncertain exclamations, and caused the feminine element to catch up offspring or, dragging it by its hand, run into neighbours’ cottages and stand talking the incredible thing over in lowered and rather breathless voices.  Yet the incredible thing in question was—­had it been seen from the standpoint of more prosperous villagers—­anything but extraordinary.  In entirely rural places the Castle, the Hall or the Manor, the Great House—­in short—­still retains somewhat of the old feudal power to bestow benefits or withhold them.  Wealth and good will at the Manor supply work and resultant comfort in the village and its surrounding holdings.  Patronised by the Great House the two or three small village shops bestir themselves and awaken to activity.  The blacksmith swings his hammer with renewed spirit