Mary Lothian was sitting in a deck chair in front of the house when the two men came through the gate. A little table stood by the side of her chair, and on it was a basket of the thin silk socks her husband wore. She was darning one of the expensive gossamer things with a tiny needle and almost invisible thread. Mary looked up quickly as the two men came up to her. There was a swift interrogation in her eyes, instantly suppressed but piteous in its significance. But now, she smiled. Gilbert was all right! She knew it at once. He had come back from Wordingham quite sober, and in her tender anxious heart she blessed God and Dr. Morton Sims. She was told of Dickson's opportunity. Gilbert was as anxious to tell, and as excited as his friend. "Oh, I _am_ so glad, Dicker!" she said over and over again. "My dear boy, I _am_ so glad! Now you've got your chance at last. Your real chance. Never come down here again if you don't make the most of it!" Ingworth sat down upon the lawn at her feet. Dusk was at hand. The sun was sinking to rest and the flowers of the garden were almost shouting with perfume. Rooks winged homeward through the fading light, and the Dog Trust gambolled in the middle-distance of the lawn as the cock-chafers went booming by. . . . "Think I shall be able to do it, Mrs. Gilbert?" "Of course you will, Dicker! Put your very heart into it, won't you! It's your chance at last, isn't it?" Ingworth jumped to his feet. "I shall do it," he said gravely, as who should say that the destinies of kingdoms depended upon his endeavours. "And now I must go in and write some letters. I shall have to be off quite early to-morrow, Mrs. Gilbert." "I'll arrange all that. Go in and do your letters. We're not going to dine till eight to-night." Ingworth crossed the lawn and went into the house. Gilbert drew his chair up to his wife. She held out her hand. He took it, raised it to his lips and kissed it. He was at home. "I'm glad, dear," Mary said, "that Dicker has got something definite to do. It will steady him. If he is successful it will give him a new sense of responsibility. I wouldn't say anything to you, Gillie, but I have not liked him so much this time as I used to." "Why?" "He doesn't seem to have been treating you quite in the way he used to. He's been talking a good deal to me of some people who seem to have taken him up in London. And I can't help knowing that you've done everything for him in the past. Really, Gillie, I have had to snub him quite severely, for me, once or twice." "Yes." "_Yes._ He assumed a confidential, semi-superior sort of air and manner. In a clumsy, boyish sort of way he's tried to suggest that I'm not happy with you." Lothian laughed bitterly. "I know," he said, "so many people are like that. Ingworth has good streaks like all of us. But speaking generally he's unstable. I've found it out lately, too. Never mind. He's off to-morrow. Oh, by the way, here's a letter for you, dear, I forgot."