“I’ll say nothing about it, Aunt Bella, you know that perfectly well; but if you had been in the motor yourself and felt the _crunch_, I don’t think you would have cared ever to drive in it again.” “Rubbish--you are hysterical! You should get Dr. Boas to give you a tonic and go away somewhere for a change; only you are too much away from your father as it is--every one says so. It was remarked to me only the other day.” “It is funny, Aunt Bella, how many people make nasty remarks about me to you. Do you suppose that they think you like hearing them?” and she laughed, and before Miss Parrett could find her breath or an answer had left her. It was a fact that Miss Parrett cultivated a cordon of idle, elderly women, who came to tea or lunch or to spend the day, who were aware that Miss Parrett had “a good deal in her power to bestow” (not only in the form of fruit and vegetables), and who knew that, even more than talking of herself and her wonderful successes in her youth, her many broken-hearted lovers, she liked to discuss her pretty, popular niece and to listen to their hostile criticisms. Miss Parrett was openly jealous of this girl’s ascendancy in Ottinge, where _she_ was the great lady. After all, Aurea was only a sort of half-niece, and she could leave her money where she liked. This notification was promptly repeated, and received with unqualified and respectful approval, by the two Miss Dabbs and Mrs. Forbes Cattermole and her freckled daughters. On these occasions, when Aurea was the topic, and her appearance, manners, and customs were figuratively placed under the microscope, and then exhaustively debated, the entrance of Miss Susan was invariably followed by an abrupt and awkward silence. * * * * * It was a lovely afternoon--Saturday--the third day of September, and the chauffeur was working in the Manor garden close by the sundial, repairing some of the rose pergolas with nails and wire. Suddenly, to his delight, he beheld Miss Morven coming through the yew arch nearest to the house--a slim white figure in a dark green frame--with her hat over her arm, and accompanied by Joss, who, in exuberant joy, was leaping his own height from the ground. As the young lady sauntered slowly up the broad walk, she stopped every now and then to pick flowers from the luxuriant borders on either hand. As these were white, she was evidently gathering them for the church. He watched, surreptitiously, her wonderfully supple figure, her lithe grace, as she stooped and stretched hither and thither. Aurea had grown thin, her lovely colour had certainly faded, no doubt she had not yet recovered from the shock of Captain Ramsay’s horribly sudden death.