sister-in-law reminded him that she had particularly
requested him to drive her over to Mowbray, and he had declined the
honour as a bore.

"Yes," said Mr Mountchesney, "but I thought Joan was going with you, and
that you would be shopping."

"It was a good thing our House was adjourned before these disturbances
in Lancashire," said Lord Bardolf to Lord de Mowbray.

"The best thing we can all do is to be on our estates I believe," said
Lord de Mowbray.

"My neighbour Marney is in a great state of excitement," said Lord
Bardolf; "all his yeomanry out."

"But he is quiet at Marney?"

"In a way; but these fires puzzle us. Marney will not believe that the
condition of the labourer has anything to do with them; and he certainly
is a very acute man. But still I don't know what to say to it. The
poor-law is very unpopular in my parish. Marney will have it, that the
incendiaries are all strangers hired by the anti-Corn-law League."

"Ah! here is Lady Joan," exclaimed Lady Bardolf, as the wife of Mr
Mountchesney entered the room; "My dearest Lady Joan!"

"Why Joan," said Mr Mountchesney, "Maud has been to Mowbray, and heard
the most delicious singing. Why did we not go?"

"I did mention it to you, Alfred."

"I remember you said something about going to Mowbray, and that you
wanted to go to several places. But there is nothing I hate so much as
shopping. It bores me more than anything. And you are so peculiarly long
when you are shopping. But singing, and beautiful singing in a Catholic
chapel by a woman; perhaps a beautiful woman, that is quite a different
thing, and I should have been amused, which nobody seems ever to think
of here. I do not know how you find it, Lady Bardolf, but the country
to me in August is a something;"--and not finishing his sentence, Mr
Mountchesney gave a look of inexpressible despair.

"And you did not see this singer?" said Mr Hatton, sidling up to Lady
Maud, and speaking in a subdued tone.

"I did not, but they tell me she is most beautiful; something
extraordinary; I tried to see her, but it was impossible."

"Is she a professional singer?"

"I should imagine not; a daughter of one of the Mowbray people I
believe."

"Let us have her over to the Castle, Lady de Mowbray," said Mr
Mountchesney.

"If you like," replied Lady de Mowbray, with a languid smile.

"Well at last I have got something to do," said Mr Mountchesney. "I will
ride over to Mowbray, find out the beautiful singe