"You don't say so! Dear me!" Madame Collier adjusted the big white skewer in her shawl, thereby showing that her feelings were not deeply stirred. "Dear, how unfortunate! But I never liked the accounts of his state." "General Villiers arrived yesterday, bringing the boy." "Well—!" in a tone of consent to what could not be helped. "I suppose the General will be the children's guardian." "No. That is the strange part of the matter—General Villiers is one of the trustees. Miss Devereux is sole guardian—" Madame Collier's eyes grew round. She set her gooseberry basket down and held up two hands, as if speech failed her. "Sole guardian to both children. I believe her brother expressed a wish, when dying, that she would appeal to General Villiers for advice." "She will need advice from somebody! Of all incompetent women—! Well—! I should as soon have expected—!" "Sir Theodore has always been fond of his sister. He used to say there was plenty of natural capacity, if only it had opportunity to develop." "Too late now! When a woman is going on for fifty, she can't be remade." "Miss Devereux is a good way off from fifty." "O, I know!" with a shrug of her angular shoulders. "Juvenile bonnets and ribbons can't throw dust in my eyes! You men are so easily taken in." Madame Collier's glance fell on Jean, with a twinge of vexation at having said so much, and of consequent displeasure at Jean's presence. "What are you doing there, Jean? Wasting your time!" "I'm waiting for Oswald." "Where is Oswald?" demanded Mr. Trevelyan. "I don't know, father." "Then why wait?" Mr. Trevelyan's manner was not stern; it was only repressed and repressing. His eyes surveyed her gravely. He might be a most affectionate father—anybody may be anything below the surface!—but the affection was not allowed to appear. "He said he would come for a game of bowls—presently." Jean carefully abstained from saying "in five minutes," for that would have meant blame to Oswald. "Go and find him. Don't dawdle about doing nothing." Jean made an effort at resistance. "I don't know where he is." "Go and see." Jean obeyed with a heavy heart. Whichever way she went, Oswald was as likely as not to have taken the opposite road; and while she was absent, he would return to the gate. The one chance of seeing him was to wait there, and that chance was denied her. It was a small disappointment, yet a very real trouble to Jean. Mr. Trevelyan's word was law, however. Nobody ever thought of evading it; and Jean dared not explain her trouble, for fear of an inquiry into the strict terms of their arrangement. "I do wonder where Oswald can be," she said sorrowfully. Jean was too honest, as well as too obedient, to linger about within view of the gate while out of her father's sight. After walking down the lane, however, she climbed a grass bank, whence she could obtain a glimpse of the spot where her hopes were centred. No signs of Oswald!