s Hall belong for the
time to his mother; and he was receiving the rent of Cross Hall while
his mother was living at Manor Cross. Lady Sarah was quite clear that
for the present they were justified in regarding Manor Cross as
belonging to them. "And who'll tell him when he's all the way out
there?" asked Mary. "I never did hear of such a thing in all my life.
What harm can you do to the house, George?"

So they went on in peace and quietness for the next three months,
during which not a single word was heard from the Marquis. They did not
even know where he was, and under the present circumstances did not
care to ask any questions of Mr. Knox. Lord George had worn out his
scruples, and was able to go about his old duties in his old fashion.
The Dean had dined there once or twice, and Lord George on one occasion
had consented to stay with his wife for a night or two at the deanery.
Things seemed to have fallen back quietly into the old way,--as they
were before the Marquis with his wife and child had come to disturb
them. Of course there was a great difference in Mary's position. It was
not only that she was about to become a mother, but that she would do
so in a very peculiar manner. Had not the Marquis taken a wife to
himself, there would always have been the probability that he would
some day do so. Had there not been an Italian Marchioness and a little
Italian Popenjoy, the ladies at Manor Cross would still have given him
credit for presenting them with a future marchioness and a future
Popenjoy at some future day. Now his turn had, as it were, gone.
Another Popenjoy from that side was not to be expected. In consequence
of all this Mary was very much exalted. They none of them now wished
for another Popenjoy from the elder branch. All their hopes were
centred in Mary. To Mary herself this importance had its drawbacks.
There was the great porter question still unsettled. The arm-chair with
the footstool still was there. And she did not like being told that a
mile and a half on the sunny side of the trees was the daily amount of
exercise which Sir Henry, nearly half a century ago, had prescribed for
ladies in her condition. But she had her husband with her, and could,
with him, be gently rebellious and affectionately disobedient. It is a
great thing, at any rate, to be somebody. In her early married days she
had felt herself to be snubbed as being merely the Dean's daughter. Her
present troubles brought a certain balm