ing your friend
Mr. Courtier hurt his knee. Miltoun has been most unwise. You had not
perhaps realized that."

Mrs. Noel's answer was bitterly distinct:

"I didn't know anyone was sufficiently interested in my doings."

Lady Casterley suffered a gesture of exasperation to escape her.

"Good heavens!" she said; "every common person is interested in a woman
whose position is anomalous. Living alone as you do, and not a widow,
you're fair game for everybody, especially in the country."

Mrs. Noel's sidelong glance, very clear and cynical, seemed to say:
"Even for you."

"I am not entitled to ask your story," Lady Casterley went on, "but if
you make mysteries you must expect the worst interpretation put on them.
My grandson is a man of the highest principle; he does not see things
with the eyes of the world, and that should have made you doubly careful
not to compromise him, especially at a time like this."

Mrs. Noel smiled. This smile startled Lady Casterley; it seemed, by
concealing everything, to reveal depths of strength and subtlety. Would
the woman never show her hand? And she said abruptly:

"Anything serious, of course, is out of the question."

"Quite."

That word, which of all others seemed the right one, was spoken so
that Lady Casterley did not know in the least what it meant. Though
occasionally employing irony, she detested it in others. No woman should
be allowed to use it as a weapon! But in these days, when they were so
foolish as to want votes, one never knew what women would be at. This
particular woman, however, did not look like one of that sort. She was
feminine--very feminine--the sort of creature that spoiled men by being
too nice to them. And though she had come determined to find out all
about everything and put an end to it, she saw Barbara re-entering the
wicket gate with considerable relief.

"I am ready to walk home now," she said. And getting up from the rustic
seat, she made Mrs. Noel a satirical little bow.

"Thank you for letting me rest. Give me your arm, child."

Barbara gave her arm, and over her shoulder threw a swift smile at Mrs.
Noel, who did not answer it, but stood looking quietly after them, her
eyes immensely dark and large.

Out in the lane Lady Casterley walked on, very silent, digesting her
emotions.

"What about the 'fly,' Granny?"

"What 'fly'?"

"The one you told me to order."

"You don't mean to say that you took me seriously?"

"No," said Barbara