"Not now. We simply job one at Burdett’s. But I don’t want to go out, thank you. Edgar is so afraid of a chill for me. We are very happy, Miss Mackinnon," she said with a small touch of dull defiance in her heavy eyes. "In spite of the ten years’ difference in our ages, I could not have a more devoted husband. Mr. Bodley was so different! He was the sort of man who makes people run about for him, and he used to shout at the servants dreadfully. Not but what he was kind enough and generous enough, too, in his way. But he had not dear Edgar’s delicacy of feeling. He is never cross, however put out he may be. He says that a gentleman’s first duty is to control his temper." Isla listened to this eulogy wholly unmoved. She had by this time arrived at the conclusion that Mrs. Bodley-Chard’s mental faculties were impaired by bodily weakness and by indulgence in some form of narcotic. She made up her mind very quietly to do what she could to combat the unwholesome forces which surrounded this woman’s life, and already she had vague ideas of her plan of campaign. If only she could persuade Mrs. Chard to call in that Mount Street doctor, between them they might manage to bring her back to the plane of active, healthy life. Isla’s practised eye told her that there was no actual disease, but that her hypochondriacal weakness had been so pandered to that she had completely lost her will-power. It was a sad spectacle, and Isla rose with courage to the idea of working some improvement. She must go warily, however, realizing the fact that she had much prejudice to overcome. With Mr. Bodley-Chard’s opinion or attitude in the matter she did not concern herself. She was his wife’s servant, and she would do her duty by her. Isla’s introduction to this domestic drama was the very best thing that could have happened to her just then. She threw herself heart and soul into it with all the ardour of her Celtic temperament; only she was liable to err in the haste and impulsiveness with which she desired to act. "Then you won’t go out to-day?" she said coaxingly--"not even after I have been out and reported on the sunshine?" "Not to-day--another day perhaps, and if Edgar likes the idea we could all have a little drive together. I’m going to sleep again now. Did you ever see such a sleepy-head?" Isla had her own thoughts as she left the room to interview the cook and to take up her position definitely in the household. That part of her business presented no difficulties whatever. The one thing that filled her with misgiving was the physical and mental condition of Mrs. Bodley-Chard.