ix months of the year away from
Yorkshire, and came back with protest at her lot written visibly upon
her face.

A thin, angular woman, with pale green eyes and straight, tight lips,
she had never been beautiful, but five or six years in an uncongenial
environment had hardened and wasted her. That her husband adored her and
never spoke of her save in a tone of awe was common property and a
favourite subject for local humour. That she regarded him with contempt
and irritation was as well known.

In view of Lady Sybil Crotin's unpopularity, it was perhaps a great
mistake that she should make herself responsible for the raising of
funds for the local women's hospital. But she was under the impression
that there was a magic in her name and station which would overcome what
she described as shyness, but which was in point of fact the frank
dislike of her neighbours. A subscription list that she had opened had a
weak and unpromising appearance. She had with the greatest difficulty
secured help for the bazaar, and knew, even though it had been opened
by a duchess, that it was a failure, even from the very first day.

Had she herself made a generous contribution to the bazaar fund, there
might have been a hope; but she was mean, and the big, bleak hall she
had chosen as the venue because of its cheapness was unsuitable for the
entertainment she sponsored.

On the afternoon of the second day, Lady Sybil was pulling on her
gloves, eyeing her husband with an unfriendly gaze as he sat at lunch.

"It was no more than I expected," she said bitterly. "I was a fool ever
to start the thing--this is the last time I ever attempt to help local
charities."

Mr. Crotin rubbed his bald head in perplexity.

"They'll come," he said hopefully, referring to the patrons whose
absence was the cause of Lady Sybil's annoyance. "They'll come when they
hear what a fine show it is. And if they don't, Syb, I'll come along and
spend a couple of hundred pounds myself."

"You'll do no such thing," she snapped; "and please get out of that
ridiculous habit of reducing my name to one syllable. If the people of
the town can't help to support their own hospital, then they don't
deserve to have one, and I'm certainly not going to allow you to waste
our money on that sort of nonsense."

"Have your own way, love," said Mr. Crotin meekly.

"Besides," she said, "it would be all over the town that it was your
money which was coming in, and these horrid peo