Lady Selina swept in.

At once Grimshaw amended mistaken conceptions of her. He understood swiftly that such a woman might inspire devotion in such a man as Pawley. Graciousness, that priceless asset, shone luminously about her. Conviction that she was exactly what she appeared to be, a lady of quality, must—so Grimshaw decided—impose itself subtly upon everybody coming in contact with her. At a distance one might criticise; in her presence the homage she exacted with such sublime unconsciousness had to be paid—tribute to CÆsar, whether copper or gold. The young man noted the elegance of her gown, the delightful lines of draperies that disdained fashion. He had expected formality, a cold courtesy, the more chilling because good breeding imposed it. But Lady Selina advanced, holding out two small hands.

“I am delighted to meet Old Grimmer.”

He said confusedly:

“Who is at your service.”

Presently they were seated. Grimshaw found himself close to Lady Selina, so close that he could detect the faint fragrance of orris-root, the only perfume she used.

“So you’re thinking of a partnership with my dear old friend here?”

Her soft voice, softer than her daughter’s, seemed to insinuate itself into his mind, percolating here and there. Pawley answered her:

“Really, we have only just settled it.”

“Capital. And how do you like my dear village? Perhaps a foolish question. If you didn’t like it, you wouldn’t choose to live here.”

Grimshaw recovered his self-possession. He spoke as tranquilly as his hostess, but with renewed alertness.

“I spent yesterday afternoon and this morning wandering about Upworthy.”

“We are very proud of Upworthy. Our roses——! I have always encouraged my people to grow sweet-smelling flowers.”

The young man recalled Cicely’s injunction. At the same time he told himself that this first interview was all important. As an honest man, he must make plain his position. To do so without giving offence became a highly stimulating mental exercise.

“Botanically,” he replied, “Upworthy is remarkable. From a doctor’s point of view, Lady Selina——”

“Yes? I am anxious to hear your verdict. I value nothing so much as candour.”

“Thanks. There seems to be a lot of sickness.”

Lady Selina sighed. Her comely face assumed a resigned expression, as she murmured devoutly:

“Alas! Poverty and disease are with us always.”

“Always, but not everywhere,” Grimshaw replied lightly. “Your neighbour, Lord Wilverley, is proud of his exceptionally low death-rate, so I am told.”

“Ah. Wilverley lies higher.”

“And enjoys a system of drainage.”

Lady Selina’s eyes sparkled. Lord Wilverley happened to be a personal friend, and a magnate, comfortably independent because of London ground rents, able to afford expensive improvements. Also he was a bachelor, on the sunny side of forty. Nobody had guessed that Lady Selina cherished the hope that Wilverley’s lord might come to Upworthy for a wife. Already his friendship with Cicely had showed signs (to her eye alone) of a warmer complexion. And yet, behind this rankled a certain jealousy, because Wilverley had been acclaimed a model estate. She turned to Pawley.

“We contend, don’t we, Dr. Pawley, that open drainage is best?”

“I have heard you say so, Lady Selina.”

“It is best for us doctors,” said Grimshaw. “I noticed that most of your cottages are thatched.”

“We are very proud of our thatched cottages, aren’t we, Dr. Pawley?”

Pawley, with a touch of nervousness, squirming mentally, replied:

“Thatch upon thatch, Lady Selina, is hygienically unsound.”

She blinked at him, quite astounded. Grimshaw caught a sub-acid inflection as she riposted swiftly:

“Is it? Why didn’t you say so before?” She looked at Grimshaw. “I’m always approachable where the interests of my people are concerned. I have never refused a favour to a tenant without giving him convincing reasons. Have I, Dr. Pawley?”

“Never,” affirmed Pawley.

Grimshaw, sorry for Pawley but much amused, and not forgetting honest John Gridley, said smoothly:

“Your land agent ought to have told you, Lady Selina. It was his business.”

“But I am my own land agent. My bailiff is a capable fellow of the farmer class. I can’t afford such an expert as Lord Wilverley employs.” She continued gently: “Between ourselves, Mr. Grimshaw, lack of means prevents my doing many desirable things. I ought to rebuild my garage, which is perilously near my house. I ought to put in a local water system. As for my bailiff, he obeys my orders. I don’t ask you to work with him. I hope that you will work with me.”

She was getting the best of it, and knew it. Grimshaw acknowledged that he was “touched,” as fencers put it.

“That is as it should be, Lady Selina. I think I can promise you a cleaner bill of health if—if we work together.”

Unconsciously, he assumed a graver tone. Lady Selina eyed him pensively. She told herself that she liked him. He was certainly a gentleman, and as certainly a man of intelligence and capacity. A devastating thought flooded her mind. Was he too attractive? Compared with Lord Wilverley, for instance. Cicely had spoken of Old Grimmer with enthusiasm. And, as Brian’s friend, as the partner of Pawley, her house must be open to him. Young girls were susceptible, and it was impossible to play watch-dog in this go-as-you-please twentieth century. Then, confident in her own powers, she swept what she held to be an absurd possibility out of her mind. Cicely was a Chandos. Meanwhile, she must “place” this up-to-date young fellow more accurately. She continued sweetly:

“Have you any definite plan in your mind which might bring about this clean bill of health?” He bowed. “What is it?”

“My plan would involve the expenditure of time——”

“I have never grudged that.”

“And—money.”

Slightly taken aback, she repeated the word:

“Money? Much money?”

“Probably some thousands of pounds.”

Lady Selina was horrified, throwing up her shapely hands in protest. Habitually, she thought in pence, not in pounds. Her voice became sharp.

“Some thousands of pounds——! What do you say to this amazing statement, Dr. Pawley?”

Pawley, alive to a derisive gleam in Grimshaw’s eyes, replied hastily:

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

Lady Selina became more and more perturbed. Grimshaw saw that he had made an impression. It might be discreet to retire, leaving his suggestions to soak in.

“My plan may be unworkable, Lady Selina.”

“But it is. I can tell you, in confidence, that my dear husband left this estate to me clear of all debt. I can’t borrow money. He would turn in his grave if I did. Thousands of pounds——!”

Stimson saved an unendurable situation by appearing with the tea-things. Pawley rose. Lady Selina recovered her graciousness.

“You must stay to tea. I insist.”

Cicely came back, carrying a bunch of roses, fresh from the garden.

“Is it settled?” she asked gaily. “Do you join us?”

Grimshaw smiled back at her.

“Yes; it is settled, Miss Chandos.”

“I’m ever so glad.”