“No pressure! On you, I mean. These things must come about naturally. But—there it is.” “I’ll think it over.” Every word of this confidential talk stuck aggressively into a not unretentive memory as Lionel breasted the hills above Nether-Applewhite. And he knew that his father was right. If he “went” for Margot, he might capture her. Very slowly that conviction came home to him. And she had said that she loved Nether-Applewhite. A carefully directed shaft which made a bull’s eye. When he reached the high ground, he sat down and filled his pipe. He began to think about Hamlin’s sermon. Was his mind clean? Judged by ordinary standards—yes. But he was no Sir Galahad. Certain moral lapses engrossed his attention. Margot would laugh at them and him, but they obtruded themselves. How was a mind kept clean? The Parson had dealt faithfully with this. But he was addressing an audience of farmers and villagers. Handling the same theme before a London congregation from a West End pulpit, Hamlin might have touched upon prosperity in its more tainting manifestations. The material side of life, its increasing luxury, its excitements, would have been presented inexorably. Lionel thought of Fordingbridge cleansed and rejuvenated by poverty and hard work. Fordingbridge must have been tempted to marry a nice little girl with a bit of money. Had he done so, what effect would it have had upon his mind? Lionel returned to his own moral lapses. They had come about when he happened to be on leave, with “money to burn”—at a “loose end.” What a descriptive expression! On duty with his regiment, working hard, temptation passed him by. Not possessing a vivid imagination, he was unable to evoke a clear picture of a future passed with Margot. It lacked what photographers call “definition.” Outlines were blurred. He had, however, an uneasy feeling that this little Queen would reign over him, and rule his life in lines parallel with hers. The rôle of Prince Consort was not too enviable. More, he had no love of London, no belief in himself as an M.P. Her assurance that he could hold his own with the mandarins failed to convince him.