man, with dark hair and a fair moustache, between whom
and himself there was no relationship, yet a certain negative
resemblance. Claud Fresnay, Viscount Harbinger, was indeed also a little
of what is called the 'Norman' type--having a certain firm regularity of
feature, and a slight aquilinity of nose high up on the bridge--but that
which in the elder man seemed to indicate only an unconscious acceptance
of self as a standard, in the younger man gave an impression at once more
assertive and more uneasy, as though he were a little afraid of not
chaffing something all the time.

Behind him had come in a tall woman, of full figure and fine presence,
with hair still brown--Lady Valleys herself. Though her eldest son was
thirty, she was, herself, still little more than fifty. From her voice,
manner, and whole personality, one might suspect that she had been an
acknowledged beauty; but there was now more than a suspicion of maturity
about her almost jovial face, with its full grey-blue eyes; and coarsened
complexion. Good comrade, and essentially 'woman of the world,' was
written on every line of her, and in every tone of her voice. She was
indeed a figure suggestive of open air and generous living, endowed with
abundant energy, and not devoid of humour. It was she who answered
Agatha's remark.

"Of course, my dear, the very best thing possible."

Lord Harbinger chimed in:

"By the way, Brabrook's going to speak on it. Did you ever hear him,
Lady Agatha? 'Mr. Speaker, Sir, I rise--and with me rises the democratic
principle----'"

But Agatha only smiled, for she was thinking:

"If I let Ann go as far as the gate, she'll only make it a stepping-stone
to something else to-morrow." Taking no interest in public affairs, her
inherited craving for command had resorted for expression to a meticulous
ordering of household matters. It was indeed a cult with her, a
passion--as though she felt herself a sort of figurehead to national
domesticity; the leader of a patriotic movement.

Lord Valleys, having finished what seemed necessary, arose.

"Any message to your mother, Gertrude?"

"No, I wrote last night."

"Tell Miltoun to keep--an eye on that Mr. Courtier. I heard him speak
one day--he's rather good."

Lady Valleys, who had not yet sat down, accompanied her husband to the
door.

"By the way, I've told Mother about this woman, Geoff."

"Was it necessary?"

"Well, I think so; I'm uneasy--after all, Mother