l the same, Raeburn took a new place in her
imagination.

Then--apart from the political world and its judgments--the intimacy
between him and the Winterbourne family showed her to him in many new
aspects. To Lady Winterbourne, his mother's dear and close friend, he
was almost a son; and nothing could be more charming than the
affectionate and playful tolerance with which he treated her little
oddities and weaknesses. And to all her children he was bound by the
memories and kindnesses of many years. He was the godfather of Lady
Ermyntrude's child; the hero and counsellor of the two sons, who were
both in Parliament, and took his lead in many things; while there was no
one with whom Lord Winterbourne could more comfortably discuss county or
agricultural affairs. In the old days Marcella had somehow tended to
regard him as a man of few friends. And in a sense it was so. He did not
easily yield himself; and was often thought dull and apathetic by
strangers. But here, amid these old companions, his delicacy and
sweetness of disposition had full play; and although, now that Marcella
was in their house, he came less often, and was less free with them than
usual, she saw enough to make her wonder a little that they were all so
kind and indulgent to _her_, seeing that they cared so much for him and
all that affected him.

Well! she was often judged, humbled, reproached. Yet there was a certain
irritation in it. Was it all her own fault that in her brief engagement
she had realised him so little? Her heart was sometimes oddly sore; her
conscience full of smart; but there were moments when she was as
combative as ever.

Nor had certain other experiences of this past fortnight been any more
soothing to this sore craving sense of hers. It appeared very soon that
nothing would have been easier for her had she chosen than to become the
lion of the later season. The story of the Batton Street tragedy had, of
course, got into the papers, and had been treated there with the usual
adornments of the "New Journalism."

The world which knew the Raeburns or knew of them--comparatively a large
world--fell with avidity on the romantic juxtaposition of names. To lose
your betrothed as Aldous Raeburn had lost his, and then to come across
her again in this manner and in these circumstances--there was a
dramatic neatness about it to which the careless Fate that governs us
too seldom attains. London discussed the story a good deal; and would
h