. This man can be uncomfortable in many ways. You
understand, eh? You wouldn't like him. People in shirt-sleeves, however
clean, are always out of it, eh? There, good-by to both of you. Take her
home, Fabian, and explain my absence to the others, especially to
Roger's friend, that new young fellow, Gower, of the Fens."

So saying, he marched away to do battle with the objectionable Bowles,
with his fine old shoulders well squared, and a world of defiance in his
gait. There is no help for it! The two left behind feel this acutely,
and Fabian pushing open the little iron gate, Portia goes down the stone
steps and enters presently upon a wood all green, and soft and
verdure-clad.

The trees are interlaced above their heads. Through them the calm, blue
sky looks down in wonder, and sheds a scintillating radiance on their
path.

"In heat the landscape quivering lies,
The cattle pant beneath the tree:"

No little kindly breath of air comes to break the monotony of the dead
sultriness that lies on everything.

Portia sighs, and with a small, but expressive, gesture pushes her hat
somewhat off her forehead. He is quick to notice the faintest sign of
wrong in those with whom he associates, and now turning to her, says,
gravely:

"Here, beneath the trees, where the sun cannot penetrate too severely,
Dulce often takes off her hat. Take off yours."

"If you think it will do any good," says Portia, doubtfully; and as
though fearful of seeming ungracious, she does take off her hat, and
walks along beside him, bare-headed.

She is feeling sad and depressed. For the first time since her arrival
she is wishing herself back again with Auntie Maud, who is anything but
after her own taste. Yet to live on here in the shadow of a living lie
is bitter to her; more bitter than she had ever supposed possible.

She had come down to the Court fully aware that Fabian (according to the
lights of those with whom she had lived) was guilty of the crime imputed
to him. He had always been discussed in her immediate circle with bated
breath, as one who had eternally disgraced the good old name of Blount,
and dragged it cruelly in the dust.

To be innocent and not to be able to prove one's innocence, had seemed
(and even now does seem to Auntie Maud and her set) a thing not to be
entertained for a moment. It would be _too_ preposterous! He had
rendered their name hideous, but he should not impose upon them with his
absurd