either; and the
one reported to her with enthusiasm by Dick Benyon took place on Duty
Hill while she was gossiping on the lawn. Disappointed in the
half-conscious anticipation which had brought her to Ashwood, she began
to veer towards the obvious, towards safety, and towards Weston
Marchmont. He had allowed himself one letter, not urging her, but very
gracefully and feelingly expressed. As she walked through the village,
the telegraph-office tempted her; her life could be settled for sixpence,
and there would be no need of further thought or trouble. She was again
held back by a rather impalpable influence, by a vague unwillingness to
cut herself off (as she would by such a step) from the mental stir which,
beneath the apparent quiet of country-house life, permeated Ashwood. The
stir was there, though it defied definition; it was not due to Dick or
the Dean, though they shared in it; it was the mark of Quisante's
presence, the atmosphere he carried with him. She recognised this with a
mixture of feelings; she was ashamed to dwell on his small faults in face
of such a thing; she was afraid to find how strong his attraction grew in
spite of the intolerable drawbacks. Wavering again, she could not decide
whether his faults were fatal defects or trifling foibles.

She saw that the Dean shared her doubts and her puzzle. He had a little
trick, an involuntary and unconscious shake of the head which indicated,
as her study of it told her, not a mere difference of opinion, but a sort
of moral distaste for what was said; it reminded her of a dog shaking his
coat to get rid of a splash of dirty water. She came to watch for it when
Alexander Quisante was talking, and to find that it agreed wonderfully
well with the invisible movements of her own mind; it came when the man
was petty, or facetious on untimely occasions, or when he betrayed
blindness to the finer shades of right and wrong. But for all this the
Dean did not give up Quisante; for all this he and Dick Benyon clung to
their scheme and to the man who was to carry it out. In her urgent desire
for guidance she took the Dean for a walk and tried to draw out his
innermost opinions. He showed some surprise at her interest.

"He's the last man I should have thought you'd care to know about, Lady
May," he said.

"That can be only because you think me stupid," she retorted, smiling.

"No! But I thought you'd be stopped _in limine_--on the threshold, you
know."

"I see the t