"Asked! Haven't you been scolding and advising me for weeks? Is there a detail of my private or public life that you don't meddle with--as it pleases you? Half a dozen times a day when I'm with you, you make me feel myself a fool or a brute. And then I go home and write you abject letters--and apologize--and explain. Do you think I'd do it for any other woman in the world? Do you dare to say you don't know what it means?" He brought his threatening face closer to hers, his blue eyes one fiery accusation. Marion resumed her work, her lip twitching. "I didn't know I was both a busybody--and a Pharisee!" "Hypocrite!" he said, with energy. His hand leaped out and captured hers. But she withdrew it. "My dear friend--if you wish to resume this conversation--it must be at another time. I haven't been able to tell you before, I didn't know it myself till late last night, when Enid told me. Your mother--Lady Coryston--will be here in half an hour--to see Enid." He stared. "My mother! So _that's_ what she's been up to!" "She seems to have asked Enid some days ago for an interview. My father's taken Mr. Glenwilliam out of the way, and I shall disappear shortly." "And what the deuce is going to happen?" Marion replied that she had no idea. Enid had certainly been seeing a great deal of Arthur Coryston; London, her father reported, was full of talk; and Miss Atherstone thought that from his manner the Chancellor knew very well what was going on. "And can't stick it?" cried Coryston, his eyes shining. "Glenwilliam has his faults, but I don't believe he'll want Arthur for a son-in-law--even with the estates. And of course he has no chance of getting both Arthur and the estates." "Because of your mother?" Coryston nodded. "So there's another strong man--a real big 'un!--dependent, like Arthur and me--on the whim of a woman. It'll do Glenwilliam nothing but good. He belongs to a class that's too fond of beating its wives. Well, well--so my mother's coming!" He glanced round the little house and garden. "Look here!" He bent forward peremptorily. "You'll see that Miss Glenwilliam treats her decently?" Marion's expression showed a certain bewilderment. "I wouldn't trust that girl!" Coryston went on, with vehemence. "She's got something cruel in her eyes." "Cruel! Why, Lady Coryston's coming--" "To trample on her? Of course. I know that. But any fool can see that the game will be Miss Glenwilliam's. She'll have my mother in a cleft stick. I'm not sure I oughtn't to be somewhere about. Well, well. I'll march. When shall we 'resume the conversation,' as you put it?" He looked at her, smiling. Marion colored again, and her nervous movement upset the work-basket; balls of cotton and wool rolled upon the grass. "Oh!" She bent to pick them up. "Don't touch them!" cried Coryston. She obeyed instantly, while, on hands and knees, he gathered them up and placed them in her hand.