Good-breeding and the observance of certain long-established, social usages have an inestimable value in all the great crises of human existence. To-night each of the other three felt the comfort of Lord St. Amant's presence among them. His agreeable ease of manner, his pleasant, kindly deference to the older and the younger lady, all helped to lessen the tension, and make what each of his companions felt to be a breathless time of waiting, easier to live through. He himself was surprised and shocked by the change he saw in Oliver Tropenell's face. Oliver looked worn, haggard, yet filled with a kind of fierce gladness. He appeared to-night not so much the happy, as the exultant, conqueror of fate. He talked, and talked well, of the political situation in Mexico, of certain happenings which had taken place in England during his absence, and though now and again Mrs. Tropenell joined in the talk, on the whole she, like Laura, was content to listen to the two men. After dinner, while they were still alone in the drawing-room, Laura began to talk, rather eagerly, of her little Alice. She had begun to wonder whether it would not be well for the child to go to school as a weekly boarder. There was such a school within reasonable motoring distance. Alice was becoming rather too grown-up, and unchildlike. She had certain little friends in the town of Pewsbury, but they did not really touch her life. But even as Mrs. Tropenell and Laura talked the matter over, they both felt their talk to be unreal. Each of them knew that Laura's second marriage, if ever marry she did, would completely alter the whole situation with regard to Alice. Oliver was not the man to hang up his hat in another man's house--besides, why should he do so? The Chase belonged to Alice, even now. And then rather suddenly, Laura asked a question: "How long is Oliver going to stay in England, Aunt Letty?" And Mrs. Tropenell quietly answered, "I should think he would stay till after Christmas. I gather everything is going on quite well out there, thanks to Gillie." She waited a moment, and then repeated, thoughtfully: "Yes--I feel sure Oliver means to stay till after the New Year----" And then she stopped suddenly. There had come a change over Laura's face. Laura had remembered what Mrs. Tropenell for the moment had not done--that early in January Godfrey Pavely would have been dead exactly a year. As ten o'clock struck, the other two came in, still talking eagerly to one another. Lord St. Amant sat down by Laura. "I'm going to have a little shooting party later on--not now, but early in December," he said. "Mrs. Tropenell is coming, and I hope Oliver too. I wonder if you would do me the great pleasure of being there, Laura? It's a long, long time since you honoured the Abbey with your company----"