one never sees
anything. When I'm in new places, I always walk. Miss Bride and I are
going to Wales this summer, and we shall walk a great deal. Do you know
Brecknock? Few people do, but they tell me it's very fine. Perhaps you
are one of the people who always go abroad? I prefer my own country.
What did you think of the way from Hollingford?"

To this question she seemed to expect an answer, and Dyce, who was
beginning to command himself, met her gaze steadily as he spoke.

"There's very little to see till you come to Shawe. It's a pretty
village--or rather, it was, before someone built that hideous
paper-mill."

Scarcely had he uttered the words when he became aware of a change in
Lady Ogram's look. The gleam of her eyes intensified; deeper wrinkles
carved themselves on her forehead, and all at once two rows of perfect
teeth shone between the pink edges of her shrivelled lips.

"Hideous paper-mill, eh?" she exclaimed, on a half-laughing note of
peculiar harshness, "I suppose you don't know that _I_ built it?"

A shock went through Dyce's blood. He sat with his eyes fixed on Lady
Ogram's, powerless to stir or to avert his gaze. Then the courage of
despair suddenly possessed him.

"If I had known that," he said, with much deliberation, "I should have
kept the thought to myself. But I'm afraid there's no denying that the
mill spoils the village."

"The mill is the making of the village," said Lady Ogram, emphatically.

"In one sense, very likely. I spoke only of the picturesqueness of the
place."

"I know you did. And what's the good of picturesqueness to people who
have to earn their living? Is that your way of looking at things? Would
you like to keep villages pretty, and see the people go to the dogs?"

"Not at all. I'm quite of the other way of thinking, Lady Ogram. It was
by mere accident that I made that unlucky remark. If anyone with me had
said such a thing, it's more than likely I should have replied with
your view of the matter. You must remember that this district is quite
strange to me. Will you tell me something about it? I am sure you had
excellent reasons for building the mill; be so kind as to explain them
to me."

The listeners to this dialogue betrayed approval of the young man's
demeanour. Constance Bride, who had looked very grave indeed, allowed
her features to relax; Mrs. Gallantry smiled a smile of conciliation,
and her husband drew a sigh as if supremely edified.

Lady Ogram glanced