ur in which he had
just returned. His face, of the Norman type, with regular, handsome
features, had a leisurely and capable expression. His manner was easy
and pleasant; only at times it became apparent that his ideas were in
perfect order, so that he would naturally not care to be corrected. His
father, Lord Montrossor, whose seat was at Coldingham six miles away,
would ultimately yield to him his place in the House of Lords.

And next him sat Mrs. Pendyce. A portrait of this lady hung over the
sideboard at the end of the room, and though it had been painted by a
fashionable painter, it had caught a gleam of that "something" still in
her face these twenty years later. She was not young, her dark hair was
going grey; but she was not old, for she had been married at nineteen and
was still only fifty-two. Her face was rather long and very pale, and
her eyebrows arched and dark and always slightly raised. Her eyes were
dark grey, sometimes almost black, for the pupils dilated when she was
moved; her lips were the least thing parted, and the expression of those
lips and eyes was of a rather touching gentleness, of a rather touching
expectancy. And yet all this was not the "something"; that was rather
the outward sign of an inborn sense that she had no need to ask for
things, of an instinctive faith that she already had them. By that
"something," and by her long, transparent hands, men could tell that she
had been a Totteridge. And her voice, which was rather slow, with a
little, not unpleasant, trick of speech, and her eyelids by second nature
just a trifle lowered, confirmed this impression. Over her bosom, which
hid the heart of a lady, rose and fell a piece of wonderful old lace.

Round the corner again Sir James Maiden and Bee Pendyce (the eldest
daughter) were talking of horses and hunting--Bee seldom from choice
spoke of anything else. Her face was pleasant and good, yet not quite
pretty, and this little fact seemed to have entered into her very nature,
making her shy and ever willing to do things for others.

Sir James had small grey whiskers and a carved, keen visage. He came of
an old Kentish family which had migrated to Cambridgeshire; his coverts
were exceptionally fine; he was also a Justice of the Peace, a Colonel of
Yeomanry, a keen Churchman, and much feared by poachers. He held the
reactionary views already mentioned, being a little afraid of Lady
Malden.

Beyond Miss Pendyce sat the Reveren