drainage scheme, like
the really good fellow that he was. She greeted him with a little
special smile. Nothing could be friendlier than the relations between
these two. Affection and trust, undeviating undemonstrativeness,
identity of feeling as to religion, children, property; and, in regard to
views on the question of sex, a really strange unanimity, considering
that they were man and woman.

"It's about these Gaunts, Gerald. I feel they must go at once. They're
only creating bad feeling by staying till quarter day. I have had the
young Freelands here."

"Those young pups!"

"Can't it be managed?"

Malloring did not answer hastily. He had that best point of the good
Englishman, a dislike to being moved out of a course of conduct by
anything save the appeal of his own conscience.

"I don't know," he said, "why we should alter what we thought was just.
Must give him time to look round and get a job elsewhere."

"I think the general state of feeling demands it. It's not fair to the
villagers to let the Freelands have such a handle for agitating. Labor's
badly wanted everywhere; he can't have any difficulty in getting a place,
if he likes."

"No. Only, I rather admire the fellow for sticking by his girl, though
he is such a 'land-lawyer.' I think it's a bit harsh to move him
suddenly."

"So did I, till I saw from those young furies what harm it's doing. They
really do infect the cottagers. You know how discontent spreads. And
Tryst--they're egging him on, too."

Malloring very thoughtfully filled a pipe. He was not an alarmist; if
anything, he erred on the side of not being alarmed until it was all over
and there was no longer anything to be alarmed at! His imagination would
then sometimes take fire, and he would say that such and such, or so and
so, was dangerous.

"I'd rather go and have a talk with Freeland," he said. "He's queer, but
he's not at all a bad chap."

Lady Malloring rose, and took one of his real-leather buttons in her
hand.

"My dear Gerald, Mr. Freeland doesn't exist."

"Don't know about that; a man can always come to life, if he likes, in
his own family."

Lady Malloring was silent. It was true. For all their unanimity of
thought and feeling, for all the latitude she had in domestic and village
affairs, Gerald had a habit of filling his pipe with her decisions.
Quite honestly, she had no objection to their becoming smoke through HIS
lips, though she might wriggle ju