girl who had been so adroit up
to the present, to find how to pierce it.

Sir James had given up trying to understand the situation. He had for so
long regarded his wife as an irreconcilable that he hoped for nothing
better than to be able to keep her pacified; anything in the nature of a
conversion seemed an idle dream. But he had noticed the change in her
manner, and wondered what it meant; he hoped that the pendulum had not
swung too far, and that it was not she who was being bullied now by
this imperious girl from town.

He said a word to Mr. Carleton one day about it, as they walked in the
garden.

"Father," he said, "I am puzzled. What has come to my wife? Have you not
noticed how she has not spoken for three days. Do you think she dislikes
Mistress Atherton. If I thought that--"

"No, sir," said the priest. "I do not think it is that. I think it is
the other way about. She did dislike her--but not now."

"You do not think, Mistress Atherton is--is a little--discourteous and
sharp sometimes. I have wondered whether that was so. Chris thinks not,
however."

"Neither do I, sir. I think--I think it is all very well as it is. I
hope Mistress Atherton is to stay yet a while."

"She speaks of going in a week or two," said the old man. "She has been
here six weeks now."

"I hope not," said the priest, "since you have asked my opinion, sir."

Sir James sighed, looked at the other, and then left him, to search for
his wife and see if she wanted him. He was feeling a little sorry for
her.

* * * * *

A week later the truth began to come out, and Beatrice had the
opportunity for which she was waiting.

They were all gathered before the hall-fire expecting supper; the
painted windows had died with the daylight, and the deep tones of the
woodwork in gallery and floor and walls had crept out from the gloom
into the dancing flare of the fire and the steady glow of the sconces.
The weather had broken a day or two before; all the afternoon sheets of
rain had swept across the fields and gardens, and heavy cheerless
clouds marched over the sky. The wind was shrilling now against the
north side of the hall, and one window dripped a little inside on to the
matting below it. The supper-table shone with silver and crockery, and
the napkins by each place; and the door from the kitchen was set wide
for the passage of the servants, one of whom waited discreetly in the
opening for the coming o