She went out by the window, and stopped to look at the sleeping baby as she crossed the lawn, smiling and making a little motion of the hand towards Mrs. Grant as she did so. Then she disappeared behind the shrubbery. Mrs. Grant laid down her work and went to refresh herself with a look at the baby. As she turned back, her husband came out of his room, which was next to the drawing-room and also opened on to the garden. His face was serious. "I didn’t know you had Mrs. Brent with you," he said. "I’ve had Wilbraham. They’re all at loggerheads up at the Castle, Ethel. I don’t quite know what to do about it. I don’t want to get up against Lady Brent; but——" She told him of Mrs. Brent’s prospective revolt. "She asked _me_ to talk to her," she said. "But I said the same as you do. We don’t want to get up against her. What is the trouble with Mr. Wilbraham?" "Much the same as with Mrs. Brent apparently. He’s fed up with it too. He wants to get away." "What, for always?" "Oh, no. He’s too fond of Harry for that. Besides, he’s very comfortable here—has everything he wants. I told him that, and he didn’t deny it. But he seems to have developed a furious hatred of Lady Brent. I really can’t tell you why. He couldn’t tell me, when I pressed him. He’s morose and gloomy. He says he must get away from her for a time, or he’ll go off his head." "But surely he can take a holiday sometimes if he wants to!" "It almost looks as if she wouldn’t let him go off by himself. He asked me to go with him, for a month. He offered to pay all expenses and go where I liked. In the old days I might have been tempted—if you’d thought it would be a good thing to do. But I don’t want to go away from here just now—at this lovely time of year, with the work and everything going so well. Of course I could write, but—— Anyhow I don’t know who I should get to do my duty. If I thought it would really put things right! What do you think? Ought I to do it?" "I don’t know, dear. I don’t understand what’s going on. It looks to me as if there must be something behind it all that we don’t know of." He laughed at her and pinched her chin. "You take the novelist’s point of view," he said. "I don’t, which is perhaps rather odd. They’re all on each other’s nerves. Why don’t he and Mrs. Brent go off together?" He laughed again. "He didn’t really press it," he said. "He wanted me to go this week. I couldn’t do that, anyhow, and when I said so he seemed to drop the idea. He had wanted me to suggest it to Lady Brent just as Mrs. Brent wanted you. They’re a queer couple." "I suppose it’s only to be expected that it should be like that sometimes," she said thoughtfully. "I think I could talk to Lady Brent, if she’d only give me the chance." "I don’t think she will, and it wouldn’t do to begin it."