atsford, and
an announcement of the impending holiday and feast. That issue might
fairly be called Jenny's number. Her friends were jubilant; her enemies
were bewildered by the audacity of her assault.

But Jenny did not come off without loss. Not only did she confirm the
disapproval of those who were resolute against her--I heard much of Mrs.
Jepps's outspoken and shocked comments, something of Alison's stern
silence--but she lost or came near to losing an adherent of undoubted
value.

Dash and defiance were not Lady Aspenick's idea of the proper way of
proceeding; and another thing offended her no less. She had, I think, on
the news of Jenny's return, devised a scheme by which she was to be
Jenny's protector and champion; she would throw the aegis of Overington
Grange's undoubted respectability over Jenny's vulnerable spot; her
influence, tact, and diplomacy would gradually smooth Jenny's path back
to society; Jenny would be bound to gratitude and to docility. The
dashing strategy upset all that; the appearance of Margaret Octon upset
it still more.

She paid her call on Jenny--her previous position committed her to that.
She drove over--not in a tandem--on the same day on which all the news
about Jenny was in the paper. I met her as she went away, happening to
come up to the Priory door just as she was coming out--Jenny not
escorting her. She was looking black.

"It's pleasant to welcome you to a cheerful house once again, Lady
Aspenick. We've had a long dull time at the Priory."

"You won't be dull now, anyhow," she rejoined with some acidity. She
dropped her voice that the men might not hear. "Oh, how unwise! All this
parade and splash! I can't tell you how I feel about it--and Jack, too!
And poor Mr. Alison! And, to crown all, she flings the thing in our
faces by bringing this girl with her!"

"She's a very nice girl," I pleaded meekly.

"I know nothing about that. She's that man's daughter. Surely Jenny
Driver might have known that her chance lay in having it all forgotten
and--and in being--well, just the opposite of what she is now? She goes
on as if she were proud of herself!"

As a criticism on Jenny's public attitude, there was some truth in this.
I could not tell Lady Aspenick about her private attitude--nor would it
make matters better if I did.

"She makes it very hard for her friends," continued the aggrieved lady.
"We were anxious to do our best for her. But really--!" Words failed.
She shoo