Alicia was not there because the doctor had strongly advised country air and the simple inaction of country life. Alicia had lost her baby only three weeks after its birth--two months ago--and had herself been very ill. "But I think I shall write to some people and ask them to take pity on me," she added, as they walked slowly through the woods. "Sir John, and Mr. and Mrs. Damian, Gladys le Breton, and Lord Calverly." "Well!" Peter spoke in his usual tone of easy acquiescence. Mary walked on a little ahead. What good did it do to trouble her brother uselessly by her impatient look? But how could Peter yield so placidly? Mary respected him too much to allow herself an evil thought of his wife; but Alicia was a person to be talked about. Mary did not doubt that she had been talked about already, and would be more so if she were not careful. Lord Calverly and Sir John dangling attendance would infallibly cause comment on any woman--let alone the beautiful Mrs. Odd. Yet Peter said, "Well!" CHAPTER V The evening did not pass pleasantly at the Priory. Captain Archinard's jolliness did not extend to family relationships; he often found family relationships a bore, and the contrasted stodginess of his own surroundings seemed greater after Mrs. Odd's departure. He muttered and fumed about the drawing-room after dinner. He was confoundedly pinched for money, and upon his word he would not be surprised if he should have to sell the horses. "And what my life will be stuck down here without the hunting, I can't imagine. Damnable!" The Captain growled out the last word under his breath in consideration of Katherine and Hilda, who had joined their father and mother after their own tea and a game of lawn-tennis. But Mrs. Archinard was not the woman to allow to pass unnoticed such a well-founded cause of grievance. With a look of delicate disgust she laid down the volume of Turgenieff that she was reading. "Shall I send the children away, Charles? Either they or you had best go, if you are going to talk like that." "Beg pardon," said the Captain shortly. "No, of course they don't go." "I am sure I have few enough enjoyments without being made to suffer because you are to lose one of yours." "Who asks you to suffer, Kate? But you don't wait for the asking. You're only too willing to offer yourself as a _souffre-douleur_ on all occasions." Then Mrs. Archinard retired behind her book in scornful resignation and, after twenty minutes of silence, the little girls were very glad to get away to bed. Hilda was just undressed when Mrs. Archinard sent for her to come to her room. Her head ached, and Hilda must brush her hair; it was early yet. This was a customary task, and one that Hilda prided herself upon accomplishing with sovereign beneficence. Taylor's touch irritated Mrs. Archinard; Hilda only was soothing. In dressing-gown and slippers she ran to her mother's room.