Jones saw that she must say something to help him on.

'We are only too glad to have her society and aid. I assure you she has
been invaluable in the parish, and is beloved by every one.'

'Exactly; I perceive a wonderful change in her; she is gentler, and less
excitable. I feel that you--that your husband--in short, I
mean--that--hem--'

'Freda has such a fine natural character, Mr Gwynne.'

'Precisely; I would say that I am convinced you would not influence her,
and so forth, in remaining away from--you understand--from me, in
short.'

'Certainly not. I should be very glad to think that she would return
and live happily at her natural home, sorry as I should be to lose her.'

'Thank you very much indeed; you have always been her true friend. I am
very anxious--so we are all you see--Lady Mary would like a
companion--Harold attends to her better than to any one else. I hope you
like Harold; ah--yes--he is a fine boy, and so talented; and you
know--to be sure. I should wish to have Freda to read with me again; I
assure you I miss her in many ways. And the colonel and Mrs Vaughan--the
children--in fact--in short--you understand?'

'Perfectly, and will not throw any obstacle in the way of Freda's
remaining at home.'

'Thank you very much. You are a true friend, Mrs Jones; thank you.'

Mrs Jones made a point of repeating that conversation to Freda, whose
look of blank dismay quite startled her.

'Oh! Serena, you want to get rid of me. I could never live this kind of
life again. Lady Mary would kill me in another month; not an idea in
common. Her daughter is fifty times more endurable, for she is innocent
in her silliness. And then that cranky, exigeant colonel, longing to
make love to me if I would let him; the stiff dinner parties, tiresome
people, spoilt children--though I do delight in Harold and Winnie and
Gwynne and Dot and baby, too, for that much--and--'

'And your father,' quietly suggested Mrs Jones.

'I never thought you would wish me to leave you, Serena. Those happy,
useful days! The poor, the schools, the church!'

'They are everywhere, my love.'

'But so different. I never felt so happy or useful before I lived with
you in London.'

'The change is in yourself, not in the place.'

'Oh! Serena, this is cruel! I could live with my father anywhere, but
the others--impossible.'

'Think it over. You know that you have a home with us whenever you like;
that it would be my pleasure as well as int