Now she had entered again into her dim kingdom, in which she negatively reigned as Stephen’s mother-in-law. He was well disposed towards her she knew, and so was she towards him; but she also knew they were not interesting to each other except in their quality of satisfactory son-in-law, satisfactory mother-in-law. She wasn’t to Stephen a woman; Stephen was not to her a man--‘But do I remember Daisy? I don’t seem----’ ‘She is my mother’s housemaid at the Rectory. She is marrying the cowman up at Tovey’s farm.’ ‘Your mother will miss her.’ ‘That is what I fear.’ Virginia had assured her, on becoming engaged, that he was of a distinguished mind; she knew for herself, since he had begun so unexpectedly to preach eloquently on love, that he had a tender and understanding heart; but neither of these things came to the surface and lit up his conversation when he was with her. Strange dehumanisation of a human being produced by their relationship.... ‘Bathrooms did you say?’ ‘In every cottage. And the new cottages are going to have lavatory basins in each bedroom.’ ‘But that is really splendid.’ ‘It is my idea, and also Virginia’s, of true religion: Love and Cleanliness. They go hand in hand. Give the poor the opportunity of washing--<i>easy</i> washing--there must be no difficulty about it of any sort, or they won’t--and they will begin to respect themselves. And from a decent self-respect to a decent courting of a decent girl is but one step.’ She did feel, however, that George’s will was calculated to make any son-in-law a little awkward and uncomfortable when with her, and was very sorry for Stephen. He would of course get used to it soon, but he had only had three months as yet of Chickover Manor, so tremendously associated in his eyes, who had lived next door for fourteen years, with her as its mistress, and she did her best to make him understand by every sort of friendliness that she was perfectly content. Why, she was content already; and as soon as she had had time to turn round, and was really settled in her new life, and knew exactly what she could do with her income and what she couldn’t, she suspected she was going to be happier than she had ever been. Because, for the first time, she was free; and just to be able to do things such as go to <i>The Immortal Hour</i> as often as she wanted to--George hadn’t cared for music--and see what friends she liked--George had been happiest when he had her to himself--and read as much as she felt inclined--George loved her to listen to him, and nobody can both listen and read--was already most agreeable, and would go on, as her life developed, becoming more and more so. Only she mustn’t, of course, behave like a fool. She had behaved very like a fool, she was afraid, in letting Christopher become so intimate, and it was her fault that he had dared be so familiar. Yet who could have dreamed, who could possibly have imagined.... Still, there it was.