She stifled a sigh. “Don’t speak of hunting! I believe they met today at Normansholt, and have been thinking that the scent must be running breast-high. How comes it that you are not out?”

“Augusta commanded me to escort her here instead.”

“I pity you! Is she with Fanny? I must go in.”

He began to walk with her towards the house, the long skirt of his driving coat of white drab brushing his ankles. “Do you continue to stable your other horses at Milverley?” he demanded.

She hesitated. “I might have done so, but no!”

“Where, then?”

“Why, the truth is I’ve sold ’em!” she said lightly.

He looked thunderstruck. “Sold them! Good God, am I to understand that your cousin would not house them for you?”

“By no means! He was perfectly willing to do so, but it would be a great piece of nonsense for me to be keeping half a dozen hunters I can’t use eating their heads off in the stable; and since Jane doesn’t ride I thought it best to be rid of them. Besides, were we not agreed—such an event you cannot have forgotten!—that I cannot, in my present circumstances, afford to maintain a string of hunters?”

He was very much vexed, and said roughly: “Don’t talk that stuff to me! Why the devil didn’t you apply to me? If you need money for such a reason as that, you may have it!”

“Out of your pocket, Ivo?”

“Nonsense! You are a rich woman!”

She was surprised, and a good deal touched. “My dear Ivo, I know as well as you do that it is not in your power to contravene the Trust! I am not so bird-witted as you must think me! I had all that out with Mr Perrott long since.”

“Let me tell you, Serena, that these independent ways of yours are not at all becoming!” he said angrily. “Consulting Perrott—! There was not the least need!”

She smiled. “You have convinced me that there was every need! Thank you, Ivo, but I am persuaded you must perceive how improper it would be for you to be franking me!”

“No such thing! If I lend you money, be sure I shall keep strict account of it, and expect to be repaid in due course!”

“Ah, but Papa warned me never to get into the hands of moneylenders!” she retorted, laughing at him. “No, no! Say no more! Indeed, I am not ungrateful, but I don’t care to be behindhand with the world! As for my horses—why, yes! it cost me a pang to part with them, but that is all done with now, and I promise you I don’t repine any more. Pray go in, and tell Lady Silchester that I shall be with her directly! I must not appear in all my dirt!”

She vanished into the house as she spoke; after a scowling moment, he followed her, cast his driving coat and hat on to a chair, and joined his sister and Fanny in the drawing-room.

When Serena presently entered the room, she had changed her walking dress for a robe of clinging black crape, made high to the throat, and relieved only by a little ruff of goffered lawn. The sombre hue seemed to enhance the whiteness of her skin; if Fanny, in her weeds, was ethereally fair, she, with her flaming locks and creamy complexion appeared magnificent.

Lady Silchester, already, though only two years older than her brother, a formidable matron, stared, and exclaimed: “Upon my word, Serena, I never saw you looking better!”

“Do we take that for praise, or censure?” demanded Rotherham.

“Oh, you need not try to frown me down! Serena knows I always speak my mind! How do you do, Serena? I am glad to find you and Lady Spenborough so comfortable. Though I daresay you are a trifle cramped. How do your cousins go on at Milverley? I suppose I shall be obliged to call. I fancy I never met Hartley’s wife. Lady Theresa warns me I shall find her to be no great thing. However, I should not wish to be uncivil!”

“My dear Lady Silchester, if you do not know enough of my aunt at this date—! Jane is perfectly amiable, I assure you.”

“Well, I am happy to hear you say so. It would be excessively disagreeable for you to be living so close if she were not. Not that I mean to say it is not the horridest thing, whatever she may be like. I shan’t enlarge on that head, but I feel for you most sincerely, Serena.”

“Thank you.”

“The stupid way things have been left, too!” pursued the lady. “Most thoughtless and awkward! I can’t think what Spenborough could have been about! If I have been asked once, I have been asked a dozen times if you and Rotherham mean to make it up. You need not fear! I have told everyone there is no question of that People are so impertinent!”

“As you say!” Rotherham struck in.

“Oh, you mean I am, I suppose!” she said, quite unmoved. “You need not glare at me in that murdering way: I hope I know Serena well enough not to stand on ceremony with her.”

“Certainly you do!” replied Serena, amused. “Do scotch the rumour! There’s not a word of truth in it”

“So Rotherham has been telling me. I’m very glad to know it. Not that I’m not fond of you, my dear, but it would never have done! You have a great deal too much spirit for Rotherham. Lady Spenborough and I were saying only a few minutes ago that nothing but a meek little mouse will do for him.”

“I am obliged to you both!” said Rotherham.

Scarlet with confusion, Fanny said, “Oh, no! I didn’t—that is, it was Lady Silchester who—”

She was mercifully interrupted by the entrance of a servant, and got up, saying: “Oh, to be sure—! Lady Silchester, you’ll take a nuncheon! Shall we remove into the breakfast-parlour?”

Serena, who was shaking with laughter, said, as the embarrassing guest was shepherded out of the room: “I should be sorry for the mouse!”

He grinned ruefully. “So should I, indeed! Augusta is abominable!”

They joined the other two in the breakfast-parlour, where a noonday repast of cold meat and fruit had been set on the table; but they had hardly taken their seats when the sound of carriage-wheels was heard; and in another few minutes the butler came in to inform Fanny that Lady Laleham and Miss Laleham were in the drawing-room.

Fanny was obliged to excuse herself to her guests. She was surprised that Lybster, in general fully to be relied on, should not have denied her; and when he had closed the parlour door behind her, administered a gentle reproof. But it seemed that he had done his best to exclude the unwanted visitors, saying that he believed my lady to be engaged. He had been overborne. Lady Laleham had begged that a message might be carried to my lady: she would not detain her above a minute. With a sinking heart, Fanny entered the drawing-room.

It was as she had foreseen it would be. Lady Laleham, a handsome, fashionably dressed woman, with very correct manners, and an air of great assurance, had plainly no intention of making her visit a brief one. She came forward, full of apologies and protestations. There was a recipe for pickling pears which she had promised quite a fortnight ago to give to dear Lady Spenborough’s housekeeper. She dared not guess what Lady Spenborough must have been thinking of her, “Only, from one cause and another, it went out of my head. I believe you desired to have it immediately, too, which quite covers me with shame! I have it with me here, but felt that a word of explanation was due to you.”

Fanny had no recollection of having expressed a desire to be given the recipe; but she accepted it, with a civil thankyou.

“I so much dislike persons who make promises only to break them. But I must not keep you! I collect you have friends with you. Did I not see the Rotherham carriage in your yard?”

There was nothing for it but to admit it, and to invite the two ladies to join the party in the breakfast-parlour. With only a little show of reluctance, Lady Laleham allowed herself to be persuaded. Fanny believed she had come for no other purpose.

Nothing could have exceeded the lady’s aplomb when she reached the parlour. It was quite unnecessary for Fanny to introduce her. “Yes, indeed I am acquainted with Lady Silchester! How do you do? I believe the last time we met was at the Ormesbys’ ball: such a crush, was it not? Ah, Lord Rotherham! Don’t disturb yourself, I beg! It is quite shocking to be invading your party in this unconscionable way, but Lady Spenborough would have it so! To own the truth, it falls out very fortunately that I should find you here, for I have been wanting to see you.”

“Indeed!” he said, a strong inflexion of surprise in his voice.

“Yes, for my eldest son informs me that Gerard Monksleigh is quite a particular friend of his, and will be staying with you for Christmas. Nothing will do but that I must get up a little party for these flighty young people! I should like so much to ask Mrs Monksleigh if she will not bring her daughters to it, but how this may be done when I have not the pleasure of her acquaintance I know not, unless you will come to my aid, Lord Rotherham!”

He returned a civil answer, but could not take it upon himself to commit his cousin. Lady Silchester said: The girls want to go to the Assembly at Quenbury. I don’t know how Cordelia Monksleigh likes it for Susan and Margaret, but I’m by no means sure I care to let Caroline go. Serena! What do you think of the scheme? Would you advise it?”

Serena, who had placed Emily Laleham in a chair between her own and Rotherham’s, saw the sparkle in the girl’s big, pansy-soft eyes as they were turned anxiously towards her, and smiled, saying: “I never attended the Quenbury Assemblies myself, but I should think there could be no harm in them.”

“A dead bore,” said Rotherham. “You will meet no one there whom you know, and, unless you have a taste for being toad-eaten, will do better to remain at home.”