“Well, Margery?” was all he said. It shot through her mind that he looked older, and very tired! The dinner-gong began to sound, and as though attracted by its long monotonous beating, a swallow flew in at one of the narrow windows and fluttered round the room. Mrs. Pendyce's eyes followed its flight. The Squire stepped forward suddenly and took her hand. “Don't run away from me again, Margery!” he said; and stooping down, he kissed it. At this action, so unlike her husband, Mrs. Pendyce blushed like a girl. Her eyes above his grey and close-cropped head seemed grateful that he did not reproach her, glad of that caress. “I have some news to tell you, Horace. Helen Bellew has given George up!” The Squire dropped her hand. “And quite time too,” he said. “I dare say George has refused to take his dismissal. He's as obstinate as a mule.” “I found him in a dreadful state.” Mr. Pendyce asked uneasily: “What? What's that?” “He looked so desperate.” “Desperate?” said the Squire, with a sort of startled anger. Mrs. Pendyce went on: “It was dreadful to see his face. I was with him this afternoon--” The Squire said suddenly: “He's not ill, is he?” “No, not ill. Oh, Horace, don't you understand? I was afraid he might do something rash. He was so--miserable.” The Squire began to walk up and down. “Is he--is he safe now?” he burst out. Mrs. Pendyce sat down rather suddenly in the nearest chair. “Yes,” she said with difficulty, “I--I think so.” “Think! What's the good of that? What---- Are you feeling faint, Margery?” Mrs. Pendyce, who had closed her eyes, said: “No dear, it's all right.” Mr. Pendyce came close, and since air and quiet were essential to her at that moment, he bent over and tried by every means in his power to rouse her; and she, who longed to be let alone, sympathised with him, for she knew that it was natural that he should do this. In spite of his efforts the feeling of faintness passed, and, taking his hand, she stroked it gratefully. “What is to be done now, Horace?” “Done!” cried the Squire. “Good God! how should I know? Here you are in this state, all because of that d---d fellow Bellew and his d---d wife! What you want is some dinner.” So saying, he put his arm around her, and half leading, half carrying, took her to her room. They did not talk much at dinner, and of indifferent things, of Mrs. Barter, Peacock, the roses, and Beldame's hock. Only once they came too near to that which instinct told them to avoid, for the Squire said suddenly: “I suppose you saw that woman?” And Mrs. Pendyce murmured: “Yes.” She soon went to her room, and had barely got into bed when he appeared, saying as though ashamed: “I'm very early.”