a bit of oil-cloth, all and
everything in 27 was meagre and unimaginative. The Major had impressed
his personality upon the house. Everything looked as if it had been
scraped. There was a time when Mrs Shepherd noticed the barrenness of
her life; but she had grown accustomed to it, and she waited for the
Major in the terrible armchair, glad when she heard his step, almost
happy when he sat by her and told her what was happening 'at home'.

He took her hand and asked her how she was. 'You are looking very
tired, Alice.'

'Yes, I'm a little tired. I have been working all the morning. I made
up my room, and then I went out to the butcher's and bought a piece of
steak. I have made you such a nice pudding for your lunch; I hope you
will like it.'

'There's not much fear about my liking any beefsteak pudding you make,
dear; I never knew anyone who could make one like you. But you should
not tire yourself--and just as you are beginning to get better.'

Mrs Shepherd smiled and pressed her husband's hand. The conversation
fell. At the end of a long silence Mrs Shepherd said: 'What has
happened to trouble you, dear? I know something has, I can see it by
your face.'

Then the Major told how unpleasantly his sisters had answered him when
he had ventured to suggest that they saw far too much of their new
neighbours, who were merely common sort of Londoners, and never would
be received by the county. 'I'm sure that someone must have told them
of my visits here; I'm sure they suspect something ... Girls are very
sharp nowadays.'

'I am sorry, but it is no fault of mine. I rarely leave the house, and
I never walk in the principal streets if I can possibly help it.'

'I know, dear, I know that no one can be more careful than you; but
as people are beginning to smell a rat notwithstanding all our
precautions, I suppose there's nothing for it but to go back to
London.'

'Oh, you don't think it will be necessary to go back to London, do
you? The place suits the child so well, and it is so nice to see you
almost every day; and it is such a comfort when you are not here to
know you are only a few miles away; and from the top of the hill the
trees of the park are visible, and whenever I feel well enough I walk
there and think of the time our Nellie will be the mistress of all
those broad acres.'

'It is the fault of the busybodies,' he said; 'I cannot think what
pleasure people find in meddling in other people's affairs. I never