She touched airily upon marriage, citing the “affair” with the present head of her family, setting forth her case and his with incisive finality. “We realised that we couldn’t pull together. I think it was a real grief to both of us. Physically, he repelled me; intellectually, I repelled him. A sad pity! Of course he will find somebody else, because Beaumanoir must be saved. Poor dear Beau knows that he is not attractive, and a title, nowadays, fetches much less in the open market.” Lionel felt sorry for poor Beau. He said slowly: “You can pick and choose, if he can’t.” She accepted the challenge calmly and candidly. “My choice is limited, I can assure you. When I came into my tiny kingdom I thought otherwise. And some odd spirit of contrariety to which all women fall victims whirled me into misadventures with the wrong men. Most young girls set an inordinate value on brains, especially their own, if they have any. I tried to establish a sort of ‘salon’ in Grosvenor Square. The cheek of it! I used to admire Madame Recamier. All that is _vieux jeu_. My brains are not of the most solid order, but, such as they are, they will constrain me to marry a man of my own class. So you see I am fairly up against it.” But he didn’t see. “Up against what?” he asked. She laughed joyously. “Up against the stupidity of our class. I bar stupid gentlemen and clever bounders. Some of the cleverest bound like kangaroos. Now you see, Mr. Lionel Pomfret, that my choice is very much limited. Probably I shall die an old maid, and leave my money to found an Institution for brightening Aristocratic Wits.” They were riding together when this talk took place. They rode out each day, making for the moors of the New Forest, where a horseman can gallop for miles and not leave heather or grass. Upon this occasion they had strayed further afield than usual, and were likely to be late for luncheon. Lionel glanced at his watch, and said so, adding “I can show you a short cut through the woods.” They turned their horses’ heads homewards and passed through a Forest Enclosure, where Lionel pointed out some fallow-bucks. Crossing a “gutter,” where the clayey soil was soft, he found deer-tracks, and taught her the difference between the slot of a buck and a doe. Information of any sort, she assimilated quickly and gratefully. But a little more time was wasted over this object lesson. Beyond the enclosure was some open ground and another enclosure. After that the forest was left behind, and the riders were on private property. A line of gates led to the high-road to Nether-Applewhite. Unfortunately the last gate was padlocked. Lionel glanced at the fence, a stiff but not very formidable obstacle. “Can my horse jump?” asked Lady Margot. “I don’t know,” he replied, doubtfully. “We’ll soon find out.”