He replaced the diary and removed his spectacles. The Squire muttered protest: “As usual, Ben, you wander from the point, you shifty old fox. Why jaw about cows? Now—what have you against Lady Margot?” “Will she be happy here in this quiet back-water?” “Tchah! My son’s wife—when I’m gone—will live where it’s her duty to live—amongst her husband’s people.” “Perhaps. Master Lionel takes after my lady. He’s incapable of unkindness or selfishness.” “Thank you, Ben. I’m allowing you great latitude. Go on! Take advantage of it!” “If Master Lionel married Lady Margot, he would try to make her happy. He would live most of the year in London. He would share her life, and that life is one of constant excitement and change. She has been happy here for three weeks, because this is a change. Would she ever take my lady’s place? Never!” He spoke with fire. The Squire lay back in his chair, gently twiddling his thumbs. In his opinion no woman could take his wife’s place, but what of that? None the less, mention of Lady Pomfret smoothed out some wrinkles. He smiled beatifically, lifted above himself. “Who could? My lady is unique. Why make these foolish comparisons? As for London——Well, well, I should like to see the boy in Parliament. Let him march with these cursed democratic times, and strike a shrewd blow for his order, a blow for the next generation.” Fishpingle played his trump card. “The next generation? Lady Margot has no love of children.” “What d’ye mean? How dare you say that? How on earth do you know?” “We have talked together.” “About her children——!” He held up his hands. “What are we coming to? I ask Heaven the question.” “I can answer it, Sir Geoffrey. I know my place, and her ladyship knows hers—none better. I did take the liberty of trying to interest her in Nether-Applewhite children. And then she told me quite frankly that children bored her. I remember her words—yes. ‘I can endure a clean child for ten minutes. Babies in the mass make me think kindly of Herod.’” “Her ladyship, Ben, likes a joke with an edge to it. You wait till she has babies of her own.” “One might have to wait long for that. Lady Margot’s family is almost extinct. A great-uncle died in a private asylum.” “I see you’ve been nosin’ about. Just like you. All old families have their skeletons.” Fishpingle, carried out of himself for a moment, like the hapless Alfred, forgot his place, as he muttered: “Yes, yes, her ladyship is very thin.” The Squire jumped up. “Damn you, Ben, that is the last straw. I have sat here listening to your mumbling with a patience and good temper wasted upon a very thankless fellow. You know best what you owe me and mine.” He paused. Fishpingle bowed superbly. “I do, Sir Geoffrey.”