"He would have acted just the same if he was married to her, and thought she loved Williams best after all," said Bob to himself. "I’ll try Bramber and Williams, and then give it up." Bramber was in a furious temper, and when Bob assured him that Penelope loved Gordon best of any one, he swore horribly. As he rarely swore, this was very impressive, and Bob almost shivered. "I say, you mustn’t kick Gordon," he urged. "After all, I may be mistaken." "I wish you were dead," said Bramber, "and you will be if you don’t get out." Bob got out, and when he was in the open air he sighed. "I don’t think I’ll try Williams," he said, thoughtfully. "He’s much bigger and stronger even than Goby, and they say he’s a terror when he’s very angry. My scheme doesn’t seem to work; there’s something wrong with it." But there was nothing wrong with it, and it worked marvellously. The report that Bob said positively that Pen wasn’t married carried much weight. Goby and Rivaulx both gave it away. And all the men now loathed each other openly. Rivaulx cut Goby and Goby cut Williams and Bramber sneered at Gordon, and there was great likelihood of there being the devil to pay. Pen tried to patch up peace among them, and failed, and wept about it, seeing so much of the good she had done melt like sugar in warm rain. At last she announced her intention of leaving them and the world alone. "I almost think I’ll give up reform," she sighed. And the season went by and the autumn came, and Titania found herself at Goring in October with a large house-party which didn’t include Penelope. "She is, of course, somewhat ashamed of herself," said Titania, happily. "This comes of having ideas and foolishly attempting to carry them into practice. Now that I am certain she is not married and that she only says so, I feel quite different. I no longer abhor the poor, foolish men who are so much in love with her. I see plainly (for I, too, am naturally a democrat of the proper kind) that they have fine qualities. I have marked my sense of this in a way which appears to amuse Lord Bradstock for some reason that I do not follow,—but then, I never could follow Augustin, poor fellow,—by asking them all down here. I dare say they think Penelope will come, for they have all accepted. I am delighted, for I really admire them. Mr. Carew is the handsomest young man in London, and will paint my portrait between meals. I wonder whether I shall try to get thinner by eating less, or will it be better to tell Mr. Carew to make me thinner in his picture. That seems the easiest course; for if Penelope’s conduct has not made me thin, what would? Neither hot weather nor despair has the least effect upon me. I shall trust to Mr. Carew’s idea of what is right and proper. I wish I could rely with equal confidence upon poor, dear, misguided Penelope."