The new Lady Alistair had expected to feel embarrassed in talking to the first lady she had ever met, and she had prepared to carry off her embarrassment by insolence. It was a surprise, and an agreeable one, to find herself chatting easily and pleasantly with the new-comer on topics that she thoroughly understood. Instead of being schooled and patronized, it was she whose superior knowledge of fashions and fashionable shops enabled her to impart information, and almost to condescend. Hero was not contented with this opening success. She wanted to be Molly’s friend, and not merely to be friends with Molly. “What a clever idea to take this little house!” she said, as soon as the opportunity served. “And what a charming nest you have made of it!” “It is rather poky,” said Lady Alistair, not quite sure whether her visitor was speaking sincerely. “Oh, but how cosy you must find it! Everybody loves cottages, but then so few of us can afford to live in them. My father, for instance--of course, as a working professional man he is obliged to consider the opinion of his patients.” “Yes, I suppose so,” Molly assented. It made her quite gracious to think that Miss Vanbrugh recognized her own social inferiority. “I should not wonder if you set the fashion,” Hero pursued. “I am sure there must be lots of people who are tired of flats.” Molly was surprised by her visitor’s discernment. “The Chevalier Vane, a friend of ours, talks of taking the cottage next door,” she said, with satisfaction. “That will be just the thing for you, won’t it? I know Lord Alistair well enough to be sure that he wants plenty of society. I expect you have hard work sometimes to find distractions for him.” The hint sank into Molly’s mind. Frivolous and stupid as she was, she was able to see that this new friend was giving her sound advice, and she was not ungrateful for it. Alistair had married her, but whether he would continue to live with her would depend a good deal on how far she succeeded in making his home a pleasant one. Poor Molly! She had caged her bird, but she had yet to see if she could make it sing. Hero would not go away till she had coaxed Molly into making tea. She praised the furniture, the copper saucepans, the new cuckoo clock, the absence of servants--everything about the house, till its mistress began to think that she must be really a most enviable housewife. When Alistair rejoined them over the tea, he found Molly in a better humour than he ever remembered. And he was careful to do nothing to break the charm. As he escorted Hero down the yard to her carriage he thanked her earnestly. “Your visit has been like an angel’s--only let me hope there will be no ‘far between.’” “I will come as often as I think your wife wishes me to,” was the gentle answer. “Be sure you do nothing to make me unwelcome to her.”