They stopped on the threshold of a large window at the side of the room, which stood wide open to the night. Outside, beyond a broad flight of steps, stretched a formal Dutch garden. Its numberless small beds, forming stiff scrolls and circles on a ground of white gravel, lay in bright moonlight. Even the colours of the hyacinths and tulips with which they were planted could be seen, and the strong scent from them filled the still air. At the far end of this flat-patterned place a group of tall cypress and ilex, black against the sky, struck a note of Italy and the South; while, through the yew hedges which closed in the little garden, broad archways pierced at intervals revealed far breadths of silvery English lawn and the distant gleam of the river. "Well, my dear," said Betty, laughing, and slipping her arm through Marcella's as they stood in the opening of the window, "I see you have been doing your duty for once. Let me pat you on the back. All the more that I gather you are not exactly enchanted with Lady Tressady. You really should keep your face in order. From the other end of the room I know exactly what you think of the person you are talking to." "Do you?" said Marcella, penitently. "I wish you didn't." "Well you may wish it, for it doesn't help the political lady to get what she wants. However, I don't think that Lady Tressady has found out yet that you don't like her. She isn't thin-skinned. If you had looked like that when you were talking to me, I would have paid you out somehow. What is the matter with her?" "Oh! I don't know," said Marcella, impatiently, raising her shoulders. "But she jarred. I pined to get away--I don't think I ever want to talk to her again." "No," said Betty, ruminating; "I'll tell you what it is--she isn't a gentleman! Don't interrupt me! I mean exactly what I say--_she isn't a gentleman_. She would do and say all the things that a nice man squirms at. I always have the oddest fancy about that kind of person. I see them as they must be at night--all the fine clothes gone--just a little black soul scrawled between the bedclothes!" "_You_ to call me censorious!" said Marcella, laughing, and pinching her friend's arm. "My dear, as I have often before remarked to you, _I_ am not a great lady, with a political campaign to tight. If you knew your business, you would make friends with the mammon of unrighteousness in the shape of Lady Tressadys. _I_ may do what I please--I have only a husband to manage!" and Betty's light voice dropped into a sigh. "Poor Betty!" said Marcella, patting her hand. "Is Frank as discontented as ever?" "He told me yesterday he hated his existence, and thought he would try whether the Serpentine would drown him. I said I was agreeable, only he would never achieve it without me. I should have to 'tice away the police while he looked for the right spot. So he has promised to take me into partnership, and it's all right so far." Then Betty fell to sighing in earnest.