She was going to the christening at Old Lafer to-day. Mrs. Severn had not been well, and it had been deferred. She had a shrewd suspicion as to the cause of her invalidism this time, and acknowledged there was reason in it. The situation was such that a better and more self-controlled woman might have been daunted, knowing the uncompromisingly honest stuff of which her husband was made. A whisper had reached the Hall that she had been to the Mires again. Indeed, when Anna's engagement was known, and Mrs. Hennifer had hastened to Old Lafer with congratulations, Anna herself had inadvertently admitted as much, and she discovered it was on the same day as her call to name Cynthia's engagement. There was no doubt in her own mind that the name of Lucius Danby had then sent her from her home. There was no doubt also that she would have to face out the situation by obtruding herself upon attention as little as possible, and certainly not by indulging in her old freak of flight to the Mires. The coach came round at eleven o'clock, clattering over the flags of the courtyard. Mrs. Marlowe was going with her to the chapel-of-ease at East Lafer but would not get out. It was a hot September day, but the coach was stuffed with as many cushions and rugs as though the season were Arctic. A fat pug was lifted by a footman into one corner, where it lay gasping in useless expostulation against the delusion that it was taking the air. Mrs. Marlowe, in a cinnamon silk and velvet mantle, and a bonnet whose sprigged lace veil hung to her waist, descended the steps feebly. The Admiral was always in attendance on her. His portly little figure was set off by a buff waistcoat and a bunch of seals dangling at the fob. Mrs. Hennifer was crisply Quakerish in black satin and the usual fringed Oriental shawl. There wafted from the group the scent of Tonquin beans. Cynthia was not going. Her riding-horse was being led up and down, and she appeared in the hall in her habit as the coach rolled off. She and the Admiral were going to have one of their favourite morning rides round some of the inland farms where repairs were in operation, and both knew that to-day their talk would be serious. She intended Danby to have permission to come to Lafer at once. An hour or two later the christening party had returned to Old Lafer. The ling had blown late this year and the moors were still in their glory, rolling up beyond the bent in a haze of purple. Borlase, loitering in the garden after dinner until Anna's housewifely duties allowed her to join him, shaded his eyes to face them. How gloriously beautiful, yet how calmly unconscious they were! Stubble fields gleamed among the soft misty greens of the far-stretching plain. The trees in the gill below the house were motionless. There was no breeze. The murmur of the beck was in the air; now and then a bee buzzed over the larkspurs and lilies under the wall.