help a little. I don't like him,
Austin."

"No more do I--since you mention it. And you'd have no pity for him
either?"

"I shall get his bit of land, but he won't get all mine," said Jenny,
serenely pitiless. "He plays his game--I'll play mine. We neither of us
stake our hearts, I think. You can't stake what you've never had--or
what you've lost." She stood silent for a minute, looking down to where
the smoke of busy Catsford rose in a blue mist between us and the
horizon. "He's just ridiculous, but he serves my turn. No need to talk
any more about him!"

Margaret tumbled herself out of the hammock with a grace which was
entirely accidental and narrowly skirted a disaster to propriety. She
came across the lawn, yawning and laughing. "I've been asleep, Jenny,"
she cried, "and having wonderful dreams!"

Jenny's face lit up with an extraordinary tenderness. She drew the girl
to her and stroked her hair. "Why did you wake up? It's a pity to wake
up when the dreams are wonderful."

"Oh, but waking up's great fun, too! Everything's great fun at
Breysgate."

Stroking Margaret's hair, Jenny looked down at me in my wicker
arm-chair. "I've been having fun, too--telling Austin secrets!"

"Tell me some."

"The day after to-morrow--or just about then!" laughed Jenny.

The ensuing days were full of triumph for Jenny. Her munificent donation
was gratefully and enthusiastically accepted; a new Committee, composed
of members of the Corporation, was appointed to take in hand the
erection of the Institute immediately; there was no danger of this
Committee's adjourning _sine die_! Her holiday and her feast went off in
a blaze of success. She received a wonderful ovation from the town;
there was no appearance of her being ostracized by the county. She came
out to greet her guests, supported by the Aspenicks, by Dormer, even by
Lacey; it was significant that the last-named should appear on so public
an occasion. His presence compromised the attitude of Fillingford Manor;
though its master was not there, though the lady who presided over the
house was severely absent, the heir was there--and there, evidently, on
terms of friendship and intimacy.

Lady Aspenick came, I think, not merely because she was committed to
civility; she also desired to spy out the land, to get some light on the
situation. Lacey's visits to Breysgate were becoming frequent; they had
not passed unnoticed by vigilant eyes in the neighborhood, and the
repor