Rose nodded. Mr. Norham was the Home Secretary, the most important member in a Cabinet headed by a Prime Minister in rapidly failing health; to whose place, either by death or retirement it was generally expected that Edward Norham would succeed. "Well, darling, I shall watch your manoeuvres with interest," said Flaxman, rising and gathering up his letters--"and, _longo intervallo_, I shall humbly do my best to assist them. Are Catherine and Mary coming?" "Mary certainly--and, I think, Catharine. The Fox-Wiltons of course, and that mad creature Hester, who goes to Paris in a few days--and Alice Puttenham. How that sister of hers bullies her--horrid little woman! _And_ Mr. Barron!"--Flaxman made an exclamation--"and the deaf daughter--and the nice elder son--and the unpresentable younger one--in fact the whole menagerie." Flaxman shrugged his shoulders. "A few others, I hope, to act as buffers." "Heaps!" said Rose. "I have asked half the neighbourhood--our first big party. And as for the weekenders, you chose them yourself." She ran through the list, while Flaxman vainly protested that he had never in their joint existence been allowed to do anything of the kind. "But to-night you're not to take any notice of them at all. Neighbours first! Plenty of time for you to amuse yourself to-morrow. What time does Mr. Barron come?" "In ten minutes!" said Flaxman, hastily departing, only, however, to be followed into his study by Rose, who breathed into his ear-- "And if you see Mary and Mr. Meynell colloguing--play up!" Flaxman turned round with a start. "I say!--is there really anything in that?" Rose, sitting on the arm of his chair, did her best to bring him up to date. Yes--from her observation of the two--she was certain there was a good deal in it. "And Catharine?" Rose's eyebrows expressed the uncertainty of the situation. "But such an odd thing happened last week! You remember the day of the accident--and the Church Council that was put off?" "Perfectly." "Catharine made up her mind suddenly to go to that Church Council--after not having been able to speak of Mr. Meynell or the Movement for weeks. _Why_--neither Mary nor I know. But she walked over from the cottage--the first time she has done it. She arrived in the village just as the dreadful thing had happened in the pit. Then of course she and the Rector took command. Nobody who knew Catharine would have expected anything else. And now she and Mary and the Rector are busy looking after the poor survivors. 'It's propinquity does it,' my dear!" "Catharine could never--never--reconcile herself." "I don't know," said Rose, doubtfully. "What did she want to go to that Council for?" "Perhaps to lift up her voice?" "No. Catharine isn't that sort. She would have suffered dreadfully--and sat still." And with a thoughtful shake of the head, as though to indicate that the veins of meditation opened up by the case were rich and various, Rose went slowly away.