stinct to conquer opponents, even when her judgment
indorsed their opposition and her feelings did not resent it.

"If she were a young woman, you'd get her at last," I said, "but she's
very old. She'll go to heaven before you've time; I can only hope, for
the sake of this household, that she won't be made a door-keeper, or we
may as well give up all hope and take what chances await us elsewhere."

"Let her be," said Jenny. "She only serves me as all the rest would have
done, if I hadn't inherited Nick Driver's money. I've beaten them with
that."

"That's not the way you beat Alison," I reminded her.

Her face had been hard as she referred to the power of her money; it
softened at the mention of Alison's name. "It was more Margaret's
victory than mine. I like best to fight with Margaret; that's a clean
sword, Austin. When I'm fighting with and for her, then I'm right. But
right or wrong, you wouldn't have me beaten?"

"You've no right to impute any such immoral doctrine to me."

"By now, I think I have," she laughed. "I wonder how soon Lady Sarah
will tell Margaret all about me!"

"I don't think she will--and, if she did, you'd never know it."

Jenny smiled. "Yes, I should. Some day--for no apparent reason--Margaret
would come and kiss me extraordinarily often." She gave a shake of her
head. "I'd rather it didn't happen, though."

It is not to be supposed that, during her Fillingford campaign, Jenny
had neglected her Institute. No day had passed without talk or
correspondence about it, and she had been in constant consultation with
Bindlecombe, Chairman of the Committee of the Corporation in whose
charge the scheme was. Fruits of the activity had now appeared. The
gardens of Hatcham Ford had been laid waste. (O Bindlecombe, what of
your deceitful promises to spare them?) Only the shrubberies in front
(where Lacey had once hidden) remained of the old pleasure grounds.
Everywhere else were excavations, or lines that marked foundations to be
laid; already in some spots actual buildings poked their noses out of
the earth, their raw red brick shamed by the mellow beauty of the old
house which still stood and was to stand as the center of the
architectural scheme. Like all things with which Jenny had to do, the
plan had grown larger and larger as it progressed, took more ground,
embraced more projects, swallowed more money. It spread across the road,
absorbed the garden of Ivydene, and happily involved the destructio