There was nothing in that. With Darrell it was different. If she had married Darrell she would have remained a virtuous matron to the end of her days. She was sure of that. The squire pulled Carolan's cloak out of her hands.

"How well wrapped up you are for such a hot day! Your mother too? Did she think it well to conceal her charms? Of course, of course, her virtue would demand that!”

Carolan very boldly took her cloak from the squire's hands, but he did not seem to notice he was looking at Kitty. She was dishevelled, but none the less attractive for that; she was shapely still; as for the weight she had put on, he liked it; he never could stand a skinny woman.

Carolan knew that her mother wished her to go, and quietly she slipped from the shrubbery and ran across the lawns to the house and up to her own room, there to stretch herself on her bed and think of the strange things which had happened to her that afternoon.

Meanwhile Kitty faced her husband. How loathsome he was, she thought!

He breathed with his mouth open, and the hairs protruding from his nostrils were coarse and black. She hated him and he hated her but differently, for his hate must always be tinged with desire and with the dreams he had had of a life with Bess and then with her.

He came towards her and put heavy hands on her shoulders. He saw a new flush under her skin, and anger only added to the sparkle in her eyes.

She was like a girl in love.

He said: "But for the child. I'd say you had just returned from a tumble on the grass with your latest!”

It was his sardonic amusement that made her flush hotly.

"Oh, Kitty, have you?" he said.

"Have you?”

She stepped back from him, but as she did so he stepped forward; her eyes were dilated with fear, the fear that he might have followed Carolan and her, have watched her meeting with Darrell. She wondered what he would do... the brute who, she told herself, had ruined her life; for she had forgotten that she had chosen to marry him as a way out of her difficulties. There was so much he could do; his power was real; he was king in his little neighbourhood. He thought the fear he saw in her eyes was that he might make love to her; it was many months since he had done that. And Dammed, he thought. Why the plaguey hell should I keep off! I married her!

"Come to think of it," he said, 'there is a good deal to be said for a tumble on the grass.”

She began to tremble, and that sickness of defeat came over him. He tried to stifle it, tried to be the ruthless squire he liked to imagine himself at times when the sentimental mood was not upon him. But it would not be stifled.

She said coldly: "Keep your coarseness for the serving maids!”

He wanted to shake her. Who had driven him to serving maids? She had!

She and Bess between them. He began to whistle, to show her that he did not care for what she said. If he wished to, he would have her as surely as he would have any serving maid that pleased him. But, he wished her to know, it did not please him... not at the moment.

"Do not think I am eager for you," he said with nonchalance.

"Not me! Too many you have had, my dear. It takes the bloom off, believe me.”

He let her walk past him; he watched her hurrying across the lawns and into the house. It might have been Bessie so alike they were.

Damn Kitty and damn Bess! He kicked the earth under his feet and wondered what he would do. He went to the stables, still undecided, and called to Jake to saddle his favourite horse. Then he rode out of the grounds and into the road, and galloped furiously; the thudding of his horse's hoofs and the feel of the sweating body between his knees comforted him. He could do what he wanted to with this animal; he almost wished it were not so docile. He would have relished using his whip, but he was too good a horseman to do so without a reason. He wanted to slash out at someone though, so he went to Harriet.

Here he could laugh and be brutal in a clever, subtle way; queer that the prim spinster could give him the comfort denied him by the voluptuous Kitty.

"You're a wonderful woman, Harry!" he told her. Cruelly he laughed within himself, and if her skin had not been so yellow, he would have kissed her there and then. But he could never bring himself to that; besides, it would spoil the fun. And good fun this was; baiting poor old Harry was as good as baiting a bear or the pitching of two cocks one against the other.

He stayed long with Harriet; he stayed for a meal, sat at the long table in the cool dining-room and carved the saddle of mutton for her.

And how she twittered about him, and how she worried that he would defy the proprieties and stay all the evening; how she dreaded he would and longed that he would!

Emm waited on them at table and afterwards brought coffee, and Emm was brown as a berry and smooth too a real country wench, ripe enough, sly enough. He watched her when Harriet wasn't looking, and he touched her bosom with a careless hand when she bent over him to serve him from the dish of potatoes. She quivered as a horse does; rippling through her body. Ripe and sly, he thought. And his mind was full of Emm as he looked at Harriet, and Harriet saw thoughts there that made her shudder, because she felt they were of her.

He sat, sprawled out in her drawing-room, and the clock ticked on.

Inwardly he laughed, and was soothed for the slights he had suffered from Bess and from Kitty. He sat on, drinking elderberry wine until the clock struck ten.

"Good gracious me!" said Harriet.

"Did you hear that, George? Ten of the clock, I do declare, and you with that ride home before you!”

"The ride is nothing to me, Harry.”

"But I was thinking of what you might meet on the road. George. I do declare the roads get worse and worse.”

"Bah! I would like to see the man who would dare ask me for my purse!

He would not get away with it and his life.”

She eyed him with a wistful softness.

"Doubtless you would be reckless, George." she said softly, 'but that does not ease my mind.”

"By the Lord Harry!" cried the squire.

"Are you going to offer me a bed?”

He could scarcely stop the smile curving his lips. It was such a good joke that; but she did not appear to hear it.

There are beds and to spare in this house," she said.

"I will tell Emm to prepare a room. Emm!" she called.

"Emm!”

"My good Harriet," laughed the squire, 'you're to put all such thoughts out of your head. A ride in the dark has no terrors for me, I can tell you. I enjoy it!”

"I know, George. I know.”

He felt himself aglow with her admiration. He was glad he had come; he was glad he had stayed. Why let Kitty humiliate him? Why have let Bess? There were women in the world who thought very highly of him.

Emm appeared in answer to the call. Candlelight softened her, hid the grime of her. Her eyes were large and soft like a fawn's eyes.

Harriet hesitated. The squire roared out: "Get a lanthorn, girl, and light me to the stables!”

Emm said: "Indeed I will, sir!" and went out.

The squire rocked backwards and forwards on his heels, smiling at Harriet, well pleased with himself.

"Good night, Harriet, m'dear.”

"Good night, George. It has been most pleasant.”

"We will repeat the pleasure, Harry. No, no! You shall not venture out into the night air. I'll not allow it. There is deadliness in the night air, Harry.”

Ah. he thought, laughing, and magic tool Starlight could throw a cloak of beauty even about such as workhouse Emm.

Emm appeared in the hall, holding a lanthorn in her hands.

"Come you on, girl," he said.

"The hour is growing late." He did not look at her, but he was aware of every movement of her body as she passed him.

"Goodbye, Harriet.”

Harriet stood in the doorway. The lanthorn, like a will-o'-the-wisp, flickering across the grass on its way to the stables.

"I shall not move till you have shut yourself in from this treacherous night air, Harriet.”

"George, you are too ridiculous!”

"Is it ridiculous then to care for the health of one's friends?”

She closed the door. She thought how charming he was, under the right influence. What a certain woman could have done for him!

The lanthorn flickered against the darkness of the stables. It was a lovely night. There was no moon, but a wonderful array of stars. They seemed bigger than usual, like jewels laid out for show on a piece of black velvet. He began to hurry across the grass.

"Emm," he said softly.

"Emm! Wait for me!”

She was beside him, and as he laid a hand on her shoulder, she stepped back a pace. Sly, silly girl, he thought. But he was in no hurry; he preferred a little dalliance.

He said: "Lead the way, girl. Lead the way!”

And she went before him, holding the lanthorn on a level with her youthful head. His eyes were fixed upon her appraisingly; all young creatures were beautiful by starlight.

"You are a nice girl, Emmie," he said.

"Often have I noticed that.”

She did not speak, and he roared out: "Did you hear me?”

"Yes, sir," she said, her voice trembling.

"Thank you, sir!”

"You like me, Emmie, don't you?”

"Oh, yes, sir.”

She had a grace, this girl; the fawn-like quality was very much in evidence. She seemed to him to be poised for a fleet and startled withdrawal.

Damn it! he thought, his veins swelling. She was willing enough.