'You're not going!' The hostess flitted over to remonstrate. 'I haven't had a word with you.' 'Yes, yes; I'm going.' Mrs. Freddy looked bewildered at the general laugh. 'He's heard aspersions cast upon your character,' said Lord Borrodaile. 'His moral sense is shocked.' 'Honestly, Mrs. Tunbridge'--Farnborough was for giving her a chance to clear herself--'what do you think of your friends' recent exploits?' 'My friends?' 'Yes; the disorderly women.' 'They are not my friends,' said Mrs. Freddy, with dignity, 'but I don't think you must call them----' 'Why not?' said Lord Borrodaile. '_I_ can forgive them for worrying the Liberals'--he threw a laughing glance at Greatorex--'but they _are_ disorderly.' 'Isn't the phrase consecrated to a different class?' said Miss Levering, quietly. 'You're perfectly right.' Greatorex, for once, was at one with Lord Borrodaile. 'They've become nothing less than a public nuisance. Going about with dog-whips and spitting in policemen's faces.' 'I wonder,' said Mrs. Freddy, with a harassed air--'I wonder if they did spit!' 'Of course they did!' Greatorex exulted. 'You're no authority on what they do,' said Mrs. Freddy. 'You run away.' 'Run away?' He turned the laugh by precipitately backing away from her in a couple of agitated steps. 'Yes, and if ever I muster up courage to come back, it will be to vote for better manners in public life, not worse than we have already.' 'So should I,' observed Mrs. Freddy, meekly. 'Don't think I defended the Suffragettes.' 'But still,' said Miss Levering, with a faint accent of impatience, 'you _are_ an advocate for the Suffrage, aren't you?' 'I don't beat the air.' 'Only policemen,' Greatorex mocked. 'If you cared to know the attitude of the real workers in the Reform,' Mrs. Freddy said plaintively, 'you might have seen in any paper that we lost no time in dissociating ourselves from the two or three hysterical----' She caught her brother-in-law's critical eye, and instantly checked her flow of words. There was a general movement as Greatorex made his good-byes. Mrs. Heriot signalled her daughter. In the absence of the master, Lord Borrodaile made ready to do the honours of the house to a lady who had had so little profit of her visit. Beeching carried off the reluctant Farnborough. Mrs. Freddy kept up her spirits until after the exodus; then, with a sigh, she sat down beside Vida. 'It's true what that old cynic says,' she admitted sorrowfully. 'The scene has put back the Reform a generation.' 'It must have been awfully exciting. I wish I'd been there,' said Jean. 'I _was_ there.' 'Oh, was it as bad as the papers said?'