"He's a bounder--at least he must be, or he'd never have done that to Susie Aspenick; but he's got his points, I think. I tell you what, I shouldn't so much mind serving under him. One don't mind being sat on by the C. O." "What was happening between Lady Sarah and Powers all this time?" I asked. "Lord bless you, I don't know!" he answered scornfully. "Institute, I suppose! I should be inclined to call the Institute rot if Miss Driver wasn't founding it. At any rate Aunt Sarah and Powers--rather like a beach photographer, isn't he?--seem as thick as thieves." He finished off his whisky and soda. "Well, women must do something, I suppose," he remarked. "Shall we go and beat up the governor?" He was impatient. I yielded, although I did not think that "the governor" would be ready for us yet; I thought that, if Lord Fillingford was to gain his cause that afternoon, he was in for a long interview with Jenny. Evidently Lacey meant to wait. I was game to wait with him. In these days I was all suspicion--on the alert for danger. It made me uneasy to hear that Lady Sarah and Powers were "thick as thieves." Mentally I paused to acknowledge the exquisite accuracy of Lacey's "beach photographer." On the genus it would have been a libel; for the species it was exact. I saw him with his velveteens, his hair, his collar--against a background of paper-littered sands and "nigger minstrels"; the picture recalled childhood, but without the proper sentimental appeal. I was right. We had to walk up and down the terrace in front of the house for a long while. Lacey talked all the time--his views, his regiment, sports, races, what not. From the top of my mind--the surface responsive to externals--I answered. Within I was following in imagination the struggle of my dear, wayward, unreasonable mistress--of her who wanted both ways, who would lead half a dozen lives, and unite under her sway kingdoms between which there could be neither union nor alliance. It was almost five o'clock by the time Fillingford came out; the sun had begun to lose power; the peace of evening--and something of its chill--rested on the billowing curves of turf and the gently swaying treetops. As we saw him we came to a standstill, and so awaited his approach. Under no circumstances, I imagine, could Lord Fillingford have looked radiant. Even any overt appearance of triumph his taste, no less than his nature, would have rejected; and his taste was infallible in negatives. Yet on his face, as he came to us, there was unmistakable satisfaction; he had done quite as well as he had expected--or even better. I was glad--with a sharp pang of sorrow for the limitations of human gladness. In my heart I should have been glad for Jenny to be allowed to break rules--to have it all ways--as she wanted--for as long as she wanted. There was the moral slope of which I have before made metaphorical mention!