Beatrix laughed again. "You're awfully sweet," she said affectionately. "He thinks you're so much nicer than all the smart young women in London. That was one for me, but I didn't show any offence. I said you were, and as good as gold. That seemed to surprise him rather, and I had to tell him why I thought so. He wanted to hear all about you. I think your ears must have burned. He thinks you're awfully _kind_. That was his great word for you. You know, I think he's awfully nice, Mollie. All the Pembertons are, when you get down beneath the noise they make. They love their country life, and all the nice things in it." Mollie raised her eyes at last. "That's what I do like about him," she said, speaking steadily, but with the blush still on her cheeks. "I think I've found out that he really has simple tastes, though I shouldn't have thought it at first. He goes about a lot in London, but he doesn't really care about it. He says he makes a good deal of money, but what is the good of money if you're not living the life you want?" There was a twinkle in Beatrix's eyes, but she replied gravely: "That's what he told me. He's had enough of it. He'd like himself much better living here on his allowance, and only going to London occasionally. I think if you were to advise him to do that, Mollie, he would." Mollie took up her work again hastily. "Oh, I couldn't very well advise him about a thing like that," she said. "I don't know enough about it." "Hasn't he asked your advice?" "No, not exactly. He has only just mentioned it, and I said----" "What did you say?" "I said perhaps he would be happier living quietly in the country. I thought a quiet country life was the nicest of all." "It wouldn't be very quiet where any of the Pembertons were, but----" "Oh, but they only talk so loud because old Mr. Pemberton is so deaf. They are quite different when you are alone with one of them. Nora has told me a lot about herself. I like Nora very much, and I'm rather sorry for her in a way. She seems so independent and satisfied with everything, but she likes having a girl friend, all the same. Of course I don't love her as I do you, B; but I do like her, awfully. It's she who's really my friend at Grays." "Is it?" said Beatrix, and laughed again, gently. At that moment Mrs. Mercer was heard coming downstairs. She took her leave on the same note of hurried aloofness as that on which she had entered, and immediately afterwards Mrs. Walter knocked on the floor of her room above in summons of her daughter. Beatrix kissed Mollie good-bye. "Don't be frightened, darling," she said. "We can easily get the better of Lord Salisbury between us. Come to tea this afternoon and tell me all about it." Mrs. Walter, sitting up in bed with a dressing-jacket on her thin frame, looked flustered. "I think there is something in what she says, Mollie dear," she said at once. "I want to talk to you about it."