“Then,” said Lady Annabel, “the fact is that I have, since the concert, heard one or two things about her. Naturally, I have links all over the Empire, as I may say, and this Mrs. Harter, as you know, has just come from the Near East. It seems that she and her husband are on most unhappy terms--no doubt there are faults on both sides; in fact, my correspondent said as much--but she has made herself quite notorious in a place where everyone in the European colony is of course watched and commented upon. And I noticed at the concert the other evening that there was a tendency to bring her into notice, simply, I suppose, because Cross Loman thinks it a fine thing for Ellison the plumber’s daughter to have married a man socially above her--Mr. Harter is a solicitor--and to have lived abroad. If they only knew what I know as to the sort of people one is obliged to receive out there!” Lady Annabel Bending is not a spiteful woman. She would just as readily, I am sure, have come to the Manor House in order to sing the praises of Mrs. Harter as to disparage her. All that she ever wants is still to be as important as she believes herself to have been in her colonial service days. Her admonitions clinched the question of Mrs. Harter’s inclusion in the theatricals. Claire sent a note to Mrs. Fazackerly that afternoon, I believe, to the effect that Mrs. Harter must by all means be asked to sing, and if possible to act as well. And if Nancy Fazackerly was at all taken aback by so rapid and complete a _volte-face_, she was far too tactful ever to give any signs of it. Lady Annabel was not offended when Claire made her intentions evident. She is never offended; she only becomes more remote and her graciousness less smiling. “I shall speak to the Rector about your invitation as soon as I can, and hope to send you an answer to-morrow. You know what the correspondence of a man in his position is. Pray don’t get up, Sir Miles. Good-by--_Good_-by. So very glad--it all sounds charming. I hope--we _both_ hope--that it will be the very greatest success. But I’m sure it will be. Good-by again.” I rather think that she bowed, in an absent-minded way, to the footman who opened the hall door for her. The rectory possesses only a small governess cart and pony, and Lady Annabel is driven out by the gardener’s boy. But she always, by means of smiles and bows, and small waves of the hand, makes a kind of royal progress for herself. It is her boast that she never forgets a face, and in consequence a great number of the tradespeople in Cross Loman are gratified by the marks of recognition lavishly showered upon them from the rectory pony carriage. I was told afterwards by Miss Applebee, who saw it happen, that on that particular day Lady Annabel was nearly run down by General Kendal’s new motor car, which he was slowly driving up Fore Street.