They had Wellgood in their minds. It was grievance against grievance at Nutley; the charge of inconstancy is eternally bandied to and fro between the sexes--_Varium et mutabile semper Femina_ against "Men were deceivers ever"--_Souvent femme varie_ against the sorrowfully ridiculous chronicles of breach of promise of marriage cases. Plenty of matter for both sides! Probably both sides would be wise to say as little as possible about it. If misogyny is bad, is misandry any better? At all events the knowledge of Wellgood's grievance might help to prevent Vivien's from warping her mind. Hers was the greater, but his was of the same order. The world incarnated itself to her in the image of the big retriever dog, being so alarming, meaning no harm consciously, meaning indeed affection--with its likelihood of paws soiling white raiment. Andy again stood dressed as the guardian, the policeman. He was to be "good against Curly." "And Isobel?" she asked. "I saw her off all right by the twelve-fifteen, Miss Wellgood--to London, you know." "Yes, to London." To both of them London might have been spelt "Harry." "She was never really unkind to me," said Vivien thoughtfully. "I expect it did me good." "Never a favourite of mine--even before this," Andy pronounced, rather ponderously. She shot a side glance at him. "I believe you thought she beat me!" "I think I thought that sometimes you'd sooner she had done that than stand there smiling." "Oh, you're prejudiced! She wasn't unkind; and in this thing, you see, I know her temptation. Surely that ought to bring sympathy? Tell me--you saw her off--well--how?" She spoke in jerks, now seeming agitated. "Very calm--quite her own mistress--seeming to know what her job was. Confound it, Miss Wellgood, I'd sooner not talk about her any more!" "Shall you see Harry?" "I don't want to till--till things have settled down a bit. I shall write about what you've said." "About part of what I've said," she reminded him. "You've convinced me about that." Andy rose again, and this time she did not seek to hinder him. "I'm off to town to-morrow; back to work." He paused a moment, then added, "If I get down for a week-end, may I come and see you?" "Do--always, if you can. And remember me to Miss Flower and to Billy Foot; and tell them that I am"--she seemed to seek a word, but ended lamely--"very well, please." Andy nodded. She wanted them to know that her courage was not broken. On his way out he met Wellgood again, moodily sauntering in the drive by the lake. "Well, what do you think of her?" Wellgood asked abruptly. "She's feels it terribly, but she's taking it splendidly." Wellgood nodded emphatically, saying again, "I never thought she had such pluck." "I should think, you know," said Andy, in his candid way, "that you could help her a bit, Mr. Wellgood. It does her no good to be taken over it again and again. Least said, soonest mended."