“I found the poor thing very well and extremely well able to take care of herself,” said the lady. “I don’t think you need waste so much sympathy upon her.” But Lord Hartmore was full of feeling, and could not be persuaded to take this view. “The poor old fellow is quite exultant,” he said. “It is a wonderful blessing for him, whatever you may think of it in any other connection. It has given him a new lease.” “I don’t believe a word of it,” said Lady Hartmore. “Oh, come!” cried her husband. “It is one thing to trust your own judgment, which is an excellent one, I don’t gainsay it--but quite another to set it up against those who must know the facts best. By the way, he bewildered me by saying Meg told him. Has Meg been here?” “Not that I know of; but she may have made a hurried run to see her uncle. If Meg told him----” said Lady Hartmore, in subdued tones. She added after a pause, “I shall think more of her if Meg is her _confidante_.” Thus on the whole the impression was favourable to Patty, even though the grounds upon which it was formed were false. After this visit Patty took her first active step towards the accomplishment of her desires. Sir Giles, who had been pleased with the Hartmore visit and augured great things from it, opened the way by asking if she had not liked Lady Hartmore and found her kind? “A nice woman, a good-hearted woman,” he said. “Yes, dear papa; but one thing she said gave me a great deal of pain; for she seemed to think I should go back to my family, and leave you,” she said, putting her handkerchief to her eyes. “Leave me? nonsense!” said Sir Giles, “I sha’n’t let you leave me, my dear. I shouldn’t have sent you away, anyhow, you may be sure; no, no, I shouldn’t have sent you away; but in present circumstances, my dear--Why, you’re all our hope at Greyshott, you’re all our stand-by, you’re--you’re our sheet-anchor.” “How kind, how kind you are, dear papa! I try to do my best to keep everything straight, though I never could pretend to be of so much consequence as that. But people feel free to speak,” said Patty, with a sigh, “because they know I have no ground to stand on. I wasn’t dear Gervase’s equal when he married me, and there were no settlements or anything, you know; and I am quite dependent, quite dependent, as much as a servant--but without any wages,” Patty added, with a faint laugh. It was at one of the rare moments when Dunning was absent, intervals of which Patty eagerly took advantage. Dunning was, indeed, a thorn in her flesh, though after mature deliberation she had decided that it was wiser to retain him, that he might take the responsibility of Sir Giles’ health. “Dependent!” cried Sir Giles, “nonsense, nonsense! A servant, my dear? Don’t let me hear such a word again. No, no; no, no; never could have been so, for you’ve been quite a daughter, quite a daughter. But, in the present circumstances----”