They went from gardens to greenhouses, from greenhouses to stables, and he was on the watch for the moment when she would reveal some little feminine pose or vanity, but, this morning, at least, she laid none bare.  She did not strike him as a being of angelic perfections, but she was very modern and not likely to show easily any openings in her armour.

“Of course, I continue to be amazed,” he commented, “though one ought not to be amazed at anything which evolves from your extraordinary country.  In spite of your impersonal air, I shall persist in regarding you as my benefactor.  But, to be frank, I always told Rosalie that if she would write to your father he would certainly put things in order.”

“She did write once, you will remember,” answered Betty.

“Did she?” with courteous vagueness.  “Really, I am afraid I did not hear of it.  My poor wife has her own little ideas about the disposal of her income.”

And Betty knew that she was expected to believe that Rosy had hoarded the money sent to restore the place, and from sheer weak miserliness had allowed her son’s heritage to fall to ruin.  And but for Rosy’s sake, she might have stopped upon the path and, looking at him squarely, have said, “You are lying to me.  And I know the truth.”

He continued to converse amiably.

“Of course, it is you one must thank, not only for rousing in the poor girl some interest in her personal appearance, but also some interest in her neighbours.  Some women, after they marry and pass girlhood, seem to release their hold on all desire to attract or retain friends.  For years Rosalie has given herself up to a chronic semi-invalidism.  When the mistress of a house is always depressed and languid and does not return visits, neighbours become discouraged and drop off, as it were.”

If his wife had told stories to gain her sympathy his companion would be sure to lose her temper and show her hand.  If he could make her openly lose her temper, he would have made an advance.

“One can quite understand that,” she said.  “It is a great happiness to me to see Rosy gaining ground every day.  She has taken me out with her a good many times, and people are beginning to realise that she likes to see them at Stornham.”

“You are very delightful,” he said, “with your ‘She has taken me out.’  When I glanced at the magnificent array of cards on the salver in the hall, I realised a number of things, and quite vulgarly lost my breath.  The Dunholms have been very amiable in recalling our existence.  But charming Americans—­of your order—­arouse amiable emotions.”

“I am very amiable myself,” said Betty.

It was he who flushed now.  He was losing patience at feeling himself held with such lightness at arm’s length, and at being, in spite of himself, somehow compelled to continue to assume a jocular courtesy.

“No, you are not,” he answered.