"I know nothing about it. Why has a mystery been made of it?" "There has been no mystery made of it," Mrs. Vincent said, firmly. "I don't suppose father will take up the title, and, anyway, it needn't be spoken of while the one who has it lives. It seems like hurrying him into his grave." But Hannah was not to be silenced. "I suppose this is why we never heard anything of his relations," she said. "Was he ashamed of us?" "Such a thing never entered his head," Mrs. Vincent answered. "And why did this brother, who has got a title, go hiding himself in Australia? Did he do something he oughtn't to have done?" "He never did anything but spend his money too quickly," Mrs. Lakeman answered. "He made an unlucky marriage, of course--dear old Cyril; but heaps of men do that. We must be going, Mrs. Vincent. Some people are coming to tea--the Harfords from Bannock Chase; do you know them?" "I see them in church, but we have not their acquaintance," Mrs. Vincent answered. Mrs. Lakeman told Dawson Farley afterwards that she said it with the air of a duchess who had refused to call upon them. "When are you going to be married, dear?" she asked Margaret, as she got into the fly. "George Stringer and Tom told us about Mr. Garratt." "It's all a mistake--" Margaret began, with passionate distress in her voice. "Don't tease her," Lena cooed, "she doesn't like it." Mrs. Lakeman looked at her with an air of worldly wisdom and said, significantly, "I should wait if I were you. You'll be able to do better when your father returns." She opened her parasol, which was lined with lilac silk--and framed her face in it. "Good-bye, Mrs. Vincent, I'm so glad to have seen you." She made a last effort to put some feeling into her voice and almost succeeded. But Mrs. Vincent only said "Good-bye," and turned away almost before the fly had started. XVIII Breakfast was always half an hour later on Sundays. Margaret had spent the early hours in writing to her father, telling him of the impossibility of remaining any longer at Woodside Farm unless the relations between Mr. Garratt and Hannah were definitely settled. Something would have to be done, and immediately, but he was not to be distressed about her. She meant to go to Miss Hunstan and to take her advice. Perhaps if she could gather courage she would consult Sir George Stringer, but it was Miss Hunstan on whom she relied, she even asked her father to direct his next letter to her care just on the chance. The morning was sultry, the notes of the birds were languid, there was not a stir among the branches though the scent of flowers came stealing upwards from the bed against the house. She went to the window and leaned forward to catch any passing breeze that might chance to wander by. Suddenly Mrs. Vincent and Hannah came out of the porch and stood just a few yards below her. Hannah was evidently continuing a conversation.