A memorable evening followed. When Lady Selina learnt what had passed in the rose-garden, years seemed to drop from her tired face. The change was almost uncanny. Colour flowed again into her cheeks; her eyes sparkled with animation. Dear Arthur must stay to dinner; they would dine on the lawn under the big walnut-tree; he could ride home by moonlight. As she talked, her mind flew into the future. Before she drank to the health of the lovers, she had definitely decided that the second son of this perfect marriage would take the name of Chandos and inherit Upworthy. He would be, of course, another Brian. The eldest son would go to Eton; Brian II. must be entered at Winchester. It was a mistake to send brothers to the same school.

Throughout dinner she achieved the remarkable feat of being in two places at the same time, like Sir Boyle Roche’s bird.

When Wilverley had mounted his hack, mother and daughter sat together, nearer and dearer to each other than they had ever been before. But it was Lady Selina who revealed her inmost feelings. Apparently, she took for granted that Cicely was head over ears in love. The girl dared not undeceive her. And Lady Selina, with her really transcendent gift of ignoring what lay beneath the surface, dwelt persistently upon the phylacteries of life. All energy seemed to have passed from Cicely to her. Obviously Cicely was ten years older and Lady Selina ten years younger. They drifted closer together in their quest of what was appropriate and conventional. Lady Selina had no patience with long engagements. The wedding ought to take place in the early autumn, so that the honeymoon could be spent in sunshine. She quoted:

“God knows how I love the sweet fall of the year.”

Cicely realised that her engagement had made the fall of her mother’s year sweet and comforting.

During this long talk, Lady Selina happened to mention that, since Brian’s death, she had pigeon-holed village affairs. But she had heard from Stimson that Dr. Pawley was ill. Not, she trusted, seriously—a passing indisposition. Upon the morrow Cicely might pop down in person and get more details. She herself would be busy with Gridley. At the mention of the bailiff’s name, Cicely, girding up her loins for an encounter, said hurriedly:

“Is John Gridley all he ought to be?”

Lady Selina replied trenchantly:

“My dear child—what a question! Gridley is—Gridley. Are any of us what we ought to be? I am well aware of Gridley’s disabilities. I pay him little more than a labourer’s wages. I regard him as a spade.”

“Yes; I have thought sometimes that Gridley is too rough with our people. He—he bullies them.”

“Possibly. Their ways are not our ways. Being of the people, he knows how to deal with them. He is an honest, faithful servant, quite impossible to replace in these troublous times. Also, as you know, I am the last person in the world to ‘scrap,’ as your friend Tiddy would put it, old retainers.”

“Do you feel that way about Dr. Snitterfield?”

“Dr. Snitterfield! What on earth have I to do with him?”

“He is the local Health Officer. Arthur thinks that he is—a—ignorant and irresponsible.”

“Does he? I didn’t appoint Dr. Snitterfield. He happens to be the chosen representative of our district. I hardly know the man. Personally, of course, I regard him as impossible. Long ago, I asked him to luncheon. He was attending one of our maids. She, not I, insisted upon seeing him. At luncheon the stopper of one of the decanters stuck. Dr. Snitterfield got it out, licked it—licked it, my dear!—and calmly assured me that he did that to his stoppers! After that Stimson kept him at a discreet distance.”

Cicely abandoned both Gridley and Snitterfield. Could she spoil a wonderful evening by insisting upon the disqualifications of bailiff and Health Officer? When she remained silent, Lady Selina said decidedly:

“After I am gone, Arthur and you will cope with my difficulties. Arthur’s agent will take Upworthy in hand; Arthur’s money will do the needful.”

“If—if, Mother, Arthur wanted to help in your lifetime?”

“I could not accept thousands of pounds from Arthur. Now, my darling, please don’t worry about me and my responsibilities. This is your hour. Make the most of it. Your happiness makes me happy. I can think of nothing else.”