hen,' she said, 'I have been altogether mistaken; for I did really
think he had offended you. But now I'm sure you'll stay--won't you?'

'Rather than you should think I run away from Mr. Athel's high
censure--certainly.'

Then she became silent, and shortly left the room. Mrs. Baxendale sat by
herself musing.

She was a woman given to thoughtfulness, for all that she used her
tongue freely when with those she liked. She did not greatly seek such
society as Dunfield had to offer, and partly on that account, partly
owing to alarms excited by her caustic comments on matters of popular
interest, the ladies of the town left her abundance of leisure. She used
it well. Though not a highly-educated woman, she read constantly, and
books of a solid kind. Society in Dunfield had its book club, and Mrs.
Baxendale enjoyed the advantage of choosing literature which her
fellow-members were very willing to let her keep as long as she liked.
Beatrice derived much amusement from her aunt's method of reading.
Beatrice, with the run of Mr. Mudie's catalogues, would have
half-a-dozen volumes in her lap at the same time, and as often as not
get through them--_tant bien que mal_--in the same day. But to the
provincial lady a book was a solid and serious affair. To read a chapter
was to have provided matter for a day's reflection; the marker was put
at the place where reading had ceased, and the book was not re-opened
till previous matter had been thoroughly digested and assimilated. It
was a slow method, but not without its advantages, I assure you.

Perhaps to relieve her worthy aunt of any lingering anxiousness,
Beatrice, throughout the day, wore an appearance of much contentment,
and to Wilfrid was especially condescending, even talking with him
freely on a subject quite unconnected with her pet interests. That
evening two gentlemen, politicians, dined at the house; Beatrice, under
cover of their loud discussions in the drawing-room, exchanged certain
remarks with Wilfrid.

'My aunt was so good as to apologise to me on your behalf this morning,'
she began.

'Apologise? What have I been guilty of?'

'Oh, nothing. She doesn't appreciate the freemasonry between us. It
occurred to her that your remarks on my--well, my predilections, might
have troubled me. Judge how amused I was!'

She did not look at him from the first, and appeared to be examining,
even whilst she spoke, a book of prints.

'I sincerely hope,' Wilfrid replied, 'tha