reen of the larches and the dark hues of the many
leafless branches, already ruddy with buds, became blue and at length
purple in the distance.

This joy and glory of her mother earth nobody could grudge Molly,
surely? But the very beauty of it all made her more weak; and tears rose
in her eyes as she looked at the healing green.

"I am tired," she thought; "and, after all, what harm can it do me to
meet Lady Rose Bright? And if Sir Edmund Grosse was annoyed to see me
here, what does it matter?"

Presently Lady Groombridge and her admiring guest came back to where
Molly was standing. In the excitement of arrival and of meeting Lady
Rose, and the little shock of Sir Edmund's greeting, Molly had hardly
taken stock of the mistress of the Castle. Lady Groombridge was verging
on old age, but ruddy and vigorous. She wore short skirts and thick
boots, and tapped the gravel noisily with her stick. She had almost
forgotten that she had ever been young and a beauty, and her
conversation was usually in the tone of a harassed housekeeper, only
that the range of subjects that worried her extended beyond servants and
linen and jam into politics and the Church and the souls of men within a
certain number of miles of Groombridge Castle.

She stood talking between Molly and Mrs. Delaport Green in a voice of
some impatience as she scanned the landscape in search of Rose.

"Dear me, where has Rose gone to? and she knew how much I wanted to have
a talk with her before dinner. And I wanted to tell her not to let our
clergyman speak about incense and candles. He was more tiresome than
usual after Rose was here last time."

Mrs. Delaport Green tried to interject some civil remarks, but Lady
Groombridge paid not the slightest attention. The only visitors who
interested her in the least were Rose and Edmund Grosse. She could
hardly remember why she had invited Mrs. Delaport Green and Molly when
she met them in London, and Billy was always Lord Groombridge's guest.

"Well, if Rose won't come out of the wood, I suppose we may as well come
in, and perhaps you would like to see your room;" and, with an air of
resignation, she led the way.

She stood in the middle of a gorgeously-upholstered room of the date of
George IV., and looked fretfully round.

"Of course it is hideous, but I think if you have a good thing even of
the worst date it is best to leave it alone;" and then, with a gleam of
humour in her eye, she turned to Molly, "and whe