unt
Silport, was tall, slender, and not very striking, with very fair hair
going rather gray; her expression in repose was pleasant, a little
anxious; only by her eyes was the suspicion awakened that she was a woman
of some character. They had that peculiar look of belonging to two
worlds, so often to be met with in English eyes, a look of self-denying
aspiration, tinctured with the suggestion that denial might not be
confined to self.

In a quite friendly voice she said:

"Can I do anything for you?" And while she waited for an answer her
glance travelled from face to face of the two young people, with a
certain curiosity. After a silence of several seconds, Sheila answered:

"Not for us, thank you; for others, you can."

Lady Malloring's eyebrows rose a little, as if there seemed to her
something rather unjust in those words--'for others.'

"Yes?" she said.

Sheila, whose hands were clenched, and whose face had been fiery red,
grew suddenly almost white.

"Lady Malloring, will you please let the Gaunts stay in their cottage and
Tryst's wife's sister come to live with the children and him?"

Lady Malloring raised one hand; the motion, quite involuntary, ended at
the tiny cross on her breast. She said quietly:

"I'm afraid you don't understand."

"Yes," said Sheila, still very pale, "we understand quite well. We
understand that you are acting in what you believe to be the interests of
morality. All the same, won't you? Do!"

"I'm very sorry, but I can't."

"May we ask why?"

Lady Malloring started, and transferred her glance to Derek.

"I don't know," she said with a smile, "that I am obliged to account for
my actions to you two young people. Besides, you must know why, quite
well."

Sheila put out her hand.

"Wilmet Gaunt will go to the bad if you turn them out."

"I am afraid I think she has gone to the bad already, and I do not mean
her to take others there with her. I am sorry for poor Tryst, and I wish
he could find some nice woman to marry; but what he proposes is
impossible."

The blood had flared up again in Sheila's cheeks; she was as red as the
comb of a turkey-cock.

"Why shouldn't he marry his wife's sister? It's legal, now, and you've
no right to stop it."

Lady Malloring bit her lips; she looked straight and hard at Sheila.

"I do not stop it; I have no means of stopping it. Only, he cannot do it
and live in one of our cottages. I don't think we need discuss this
fu