Then while the horses were being brought round, she contrived to have a few words with Everard. “So you have taken an old woman’s advice, I find. Of one thing I am quite sure, that you will never have cause to repent having done so. You are a fortunate fellow. You have secured a treasure. Indeed, I’m far from sure that she’s not a long way too good for you.” “There I quite agree with you, Lady Pell. Where, indeed, should we find a man worthy of her? But is not that a very good reason why Miss Thursby should have condescended to accept me? We should always try to improve our fellow-creatures where improvement is needed. And that in my case she will find ample scope for her efforts, no one knows better than myself.” He spoke gravely enough, but there was a lurking smile in his eyes which Lady Pell did not fail to note. “You men have quite a wonderful gift for preaching one doctrine before marriage and its exact opposite after. _Then_ you discover that it is yourselves who are perfection and your poor wives who are deficient in this, that or the other quality which you never seemed to take account of before. But it has always been so, and I suppose it always will be.” She was on the point of turning away. “One moment, Lady Pell,” said Everard. “I have not yet told you how deeply grateful I am for the advice you gave me this morning. To that, in a great measure, I owe my present happiness. It gave me just the impulse I needed; it was the spur to urge me forward on the road I ought to go. My sincerest thanks will be yours to the last day of my life.” He was earnest enough now, there could be no mistake on that score. “Wait till you have been floundering in the quicksands of matrimony for half-a-dozen years and then maybe you will tell a different tale,” laughed Lady Pell. Evening had closed in by the time our party reached the Chase. It was Trant in person, and not one of the footmen, who opened the door for them. He was evidently perturbed; so much so, in fact, that the knot of his white tie had worked itself round under his left ear without his being aware of it. Lady Pell saw at a glance that something was amiss. “What is it, Trant,” she asked quickly. “Sir Gilbert——?” Something rose in her throat, but her eyes asked the question her lips refused to finish. “Sir Gilbert, my lady, is not very well; nothing to be frightened at, if I may take the liberty of saying so,” he made haste to add. “If your ladyship will allow me,” he went on in a lower voice, “I should like to tell you what I know of the affair before you see Sir Gilbert.” Lady Pell at once led the way to the anteroom. The butler opened the door, bowed her in and followed.