The next was a fortnight of strange and new experiences. Lord Northmoor spent most of his days over the papers in the office, so much his usual self, that Mr. Burford generally forgot, and called to him as ‘Morton’ so naturally that after the first the other clerks left off sniggering.

There Sir Edward called on him, and in an interview in his sitting-room at the office asked him to a quiet dinner, together with the solicitor; but this was hardly a success, for Mr. Burford, being at home with the family, did all the talking, and Frank could not but feel in the presence of his master, and had not a word to say for himself, especially as George and Freda looked critical, and as if ‘That stick’ was in their minds, if not on their lips. The only time when he approached a thaw was when in the hot summer evening Lady Kenton made him her companion in a twilight stroll on the terraces, when he looked at the roses with delight, and volunteered a question about the best sorts, saying that the garden at Northmoor had been much neglected, and he wanted to have it in good order, ‘that is’—blushing and correcting himself—‘if we can live there.’

Lady Kenton noted the ‘we’ and was sorry to be here interrupted. ‘We shall do nothing with him till we get him alone,’ she said. ‘We must have him apart from Mr. Burford.’

Before this, however, they had to meet him at a very splendid party, given with all the resources of the Burford family at their villa, when the county folks, who had no small curiosity to see the new peer, were invited in full force, and the poor peer felt capable of fewer words than ever to throw at them.

Lady Kenton ventured on asking Mrs. Burford to introduce her to Miss Marshall, taking such presence for granted.

‘Oh, Lady Kenton, really now I did not think that foolish affair should be encouraged. It is such an unfortunate thing for him; and as Miss Lang and I agreed, it would be so much better for both of them if it were given up.’

‘Is there anything against her?’

‘Oh no, not at all; only that, poor thing, she is quite unfitted for the position, and between ourselves, in the condition of the property, it is really incumbent on his Lordship to marry a lady of fortune. At his age he cannot afford romance,’ she added with a laugh, being in fact rather inferior to her husband in tone, or perhaps in manners. Indeed, she was of all others the person who most shrivelled up the man whom she had always treated like a poor dependent, till her politeness became still more embarrassing. Among all the party, Sir Edward and Lady Kenton were those with whom he was most nearly at ease, for they had nothing to revoke in their manners towards him, and could, without any change, treat him as an equal whom they respected; nor did they try to force him forward into general conversation—as did his host—with the best intentions.

Lady Kenton, under cover of Miss Burford’s piano, asked him whether she might call on Miss Marshall, and saw him flush with gratitude and pleasure, as he answered, ‘It will be very kind in you.’

Lady Kenton knew enough of the ways of the school to understand when to make her visit, so as to have a previous conversation with Miss Lang, whom of course she already knew. That lady received her in one of the drawing-rooms, the folding doors into the other were shut.

‘I have told Miss Marshall,’ said Miss Lang, ‘that the room is always at her service to receive Lord Northmoor, though, in fact, he never comes till after business hours.’

‘He is behaving very well.’

‘Very honourably indeed; but poor Miss Marshall is in a very distressing position.’

‘Indeed! Is she not very happy in his constancy?’

‘She is in great doubt and difficulty,’ said Miss Lang, ‘and we really hardly know how to advise her. She seems sure of his affection, but she shrinks from entering on a position for which she is so unfit.’

‘Is she really unfit?’

Miss Lang hesitated. ‘She is a complete lady, and as good and conscientious a creature as ever existed; but you see, Lady Kenton, her whole life has been spent here, ever since she was sixteen, she has known nothing beyond the schoolroom, and how she is ever to fulfil the duties of a peeress, and the head of a large establishment, I really cannot see. It might be just misery to her, and to him, too.’

‘Has she good sense?’

‘Yes, very fair sense. We can trust to her judgment implicitly in dealing with the girls, and she teaches well, but she is not at all clever, and could never shine.’

‘Perhaps a person who wanted to shine might be embarrassing,’ said Lady Kenton, rather amused.

‘Well, it might be so. The poor man is certainly no star himself, but surely he needs some one who would draw him out, and push him forward, make a way in society, in fact.’

‘That might not be for his domestic happiness.’

‘Perhaps not, but your Ladyship has not seen what a poor little insignificant creature she is—though, indeed, we are both very fond of her, and should be very much relieved not to think we ought to strengthen her scruples. For, indeed,’ and tears actually came into the good lady’s eyes, ‘I am sure that though she would release him for his good, that it would break her heart. Shall I call her? Ah!’ as a voice began to become very audible on the other side of the doors, ‘she has a visitor.’

‘Not Lord Northmoor. It is a woman’s voice, and a loud one.’

Presently, indeed, there was a tone that made Lady Kenton say, ‘People do scent things very fast. It must be some one wanting to apply for patronage.’

‘I am a little afraid it is that sister-in-law of his,’ said Miss Lang, lowering her voice. ‘I saw her once at the choral festival—and—and I wasn’t delighted.’

‘Perhaps I had better come another day,’ said Lady Kenton. ‘We seem to be almost listening.’

Even as the lady was taking her leave, the words were plainly heard—

‘Artful, mean-spirited, time-serving viper as you are, bent on dragging him down to destruction!’