There were persons talking in her mother's sitting-room--Sir Wilfrid, Arthur, and Coryston--she perceived them through the open windows. The sight of Arthur suddenly sobered her, and diverted her thoughts. For if Newbury now held the chief place in her mind, her mother still reigned there. She--Marcia--must be on the spot to protect her mother!--in case protection were wanted, and Coryston and Sir Wilfrid had not succeeded yet in bringing that mad fellow to his senses. Ah! but they had all a new helper and counselor now--in Edward. Let Coryston abuse him to her, if he dared! She would know how to defend him. She hurried on. Simultaneously, from the garden door of the library a figure emerged, a man with some books under his arm. She recognized Lester, and a rush of something which was partly shyness and partly a delicious pride came over her, to delay her steps. They met under the wide open colonnade which carried the first story of the house. Lester came toward her smiling and flushed. "I've just heard," he said. "I do congratulate you. It's splendid!" She gave him her hand; and he thought as he looked at her how happiness had beautified and transformed her. All that was imperfect in the face seemed to have fallen into harmony; and her dark bloom had never been so lovely. "Yes, I'm very happy. He'll keep me in order! At least he'll try." Her eyes danced. "Everybody seems extremely pleased," he said, walking at her side, and not indeed knowing what to say. "Except Coryston," replied Marcia, calmly. "I shall have a bad time with him." "Stand up to him!" he laughed. "His bark is worse than his bite--Ah!--" A sudden sound of vehement voices overhead--Lady Coryston's voice and Arthur's clashing--startled them both. "Oh, I must go!" cried Marcia, frowning and paling. "Thank you--thank you so much. Good-by." And she ran into the house. Lester remained rooted in the shadows of the colonnade for a minute or two, looking after her, with a set, abstracted face. Then the sound of the altercation overhead smote him too with alarm. He moved quickly away lest through the open windows he might catch what was said. CHAPTER X Marcia entered her mother's sitting-room in the midst of what seemed a babel of voices. James Coryston, indeed, who was sitting in a corner of the room while Coryston and Sir Wilfrid Bury argued across him, was not contributing to it. He was watching his mother, and she on the other side of the room was talking rapidly to her son Arthur, who could evidently hardly control himself sufficiently to listen to her. As Marcia came in she heard Arthur say in a loud voice: "Your attitude, mother, is perfectly unreasonable, and I will not submit to be dictated to like this!" Marcia, staying her foot half-way across the room, looked at her youngest brother in amazement. Was this rough-mannered, rough-voiced man, Arthur?--the tame house-brother, and docile son of their normal life? What was happening to them all?