This sudden appeal to her had produced in Marcia a profound intensity of feeling. She thought of Coryston's "Take care!"--and trembled. Edward would not be home till the following day. She must act alone--help alone. The thought braced her will. Her mother would be no use--but she wished she had thought of asking Sir Wilfrid to come with her.... The car turned into the field lane leading to the farm. The wind had strengthened, and during all the latter part of her drive heavy clouds had been rising from the west, and massing themselves round the declining sun. The quality of the light had changed, and the air had grown colder. "Looks like a storm, miss," said the young chauffeur, a lad just promoted to driving, and the son of the Coryston head gardener. As he spoke, a man came out of a range of buildings on the farther side of a field and paused to look at the motor. He was carrying something in his arms--Marcia thought, a lamb. The sight of the lady in the car seemed to excite his astonishment, but after a moment or two's observation he turned abruptly round the corner of the building behind him and disappeared. "That's the place, miss, where they try all the new foods," the chauffeur continued, eagerly,--"and that's Mr. Betts. He's just wonderful with the beasts." "You know the farm, Jackson?" "Oh, father's great friends with Mr. Betts," said the youth, proudly. "And I've often come over with him of a Sunday. Mr. Betts is a very nice gentleman. He'll show you everything." At which point, however, with a conscious look, and a blush, the young man fell silent. Marcia wondered how much he knew. Probably not much less than she did, considering the agitation in the neighborhood. They motored slowly toward the farm-house, an old building with modern additions and a small garden round it, standing rather nakedly on the edge of the famous checkered field, a patchwork quilt of green, yellow, and brown, which Marcia had often passed on her drives without understanding in the least what it meant. About a stone's-throw from the front door rose a substantial one-storied building, and, seeing Miss Coryston glance at it curiously, Jackson was again eager to explain: "That's the laboratory, miss--His lordship built that six years ago. And last year there was a big meeting here. Father and I come over to the speeches--and they gave Mr. Betts a gold medal--and there was an American gentleman who spoke--and he said as how this place of Mr. Betts--next to that place, Harpenden way--Rothamsted, I think they call it--was most 'ighly thought of in the States--and Mr. Betts had done fine. And that's the cattle-station over there, miss, where they fattens 'em, and weighs 'em. And down there's the drainage field where they gathers all the water that's been through the crops, when they've manured 'em--and the mangel field--and--"