ould
give me a worthier scope for my abilities and yet (Jenny looked at me
almost tenderly) let me stay in my dear little home--near
Breysgate--"and near me, Mr. Austin." She played with the idea--as she
played with us. Some gossip about it began to trickle through Catsford.
There was much interest, and Jenny became quite a heroine. Meanwhile
plans for the poor old Memorial Hall were suspended.

According to Bindlecombe the only possible site for the visible
realization of this splendid idea--the only site which the congested
condition of the center of the borough allowed, and also the only one
worthy of the great Institute--was the garden and grounds of Hatcham
Ford. The beautiful old house itself was to be preserved as the center
of an imposing group of handsome buildings; the old gardens need not be
materially spoiled--so Bindlecombe unplausibly maintained. The flavor of
antiquity and aristocracy thus imparted to the Institute would,
Bindlecombe declared, give it a charm and a dignity beyond those
possessed by any other Institute the world over. I was there when he
first made this suggestion to Jenny. She looked at him in silence,
smiled, and glanced quickly at me. The look, though quick, was
audacious--under the circumstances.

"But what will Mr. Octon say to that?"

Bindlecombe deferentially hinted that he understood that Mr. Octon's
lease of Hatcham Ford expired, or could be broken, in two or three
years. He understood--perhaps he was wrong--that Mr. Driver usually
reserved a power to break leases at the end of seven years? Mr. Cartmell
would, of course, know all about that.

"Oh, if that's so," said Jenny, "of course it would be quite simple.
Wouldn't it, Mr. Austin?"

"As simple as drawing a badger," I replied--and Bindlecombe looked
surprised to hear such a sporting simile pass my lips. It was by no
means a bad one, though, and Jenny rewarded it with a merry little nod.

At this point, then, her public project touched her private
relations--and her relations with Octon had been close ever since her
return from Paris. He had been a constant visitor at Breysgate, and my
belief was that within a very few weeks of her arrival he had made a
direct attack--had confronted her with a downright proposal--demand is a
word which suits his method better--for her hand. I did not think that
she had refused, I was sure that she had not accepted. She was fond of
referring, in his presence, to the recent date of her fath