“No,” allowed Mr. Fothersley. “No. Yet I do not remember to have heard it before. It has a Cornish sound. We must inquire. They have not arrived yet, I gather, as the new servants’ wing is not ready. But the people at the Grange, I fear, are not only Jews, but German Jews! What a _milieu_! And we were such a happy little set before the war, very happy—yes.” “At any rate,” said the fourth member of the lunch party, a very beautiful young woman, the only child and married daughter of the house, “they have all an amazing amount of money, which I have no doubt they are prepared to spend, and the German Jews I conclude you will not take up. As for Thorpe, it is disgusting that anyone should have it. What _is_ the woman like, father?” “Oh, all right,” said North. “She is looking after the place well, and hasn’t been seized with the present mania for building billiard-rooms and winter gardens and lordly garages.” “But what is she _like_?” asked Mrs. North. “Is she a lady, or isn’t she? You can’t call on a woman because she hasn’t built a winter garden.” “Why not?” returned her husband, in his most irritating fashion. “By the way,” interposed Mr. Fothersley adroitly, “I hear Miss Seer intends building cottages. A thing I do not consider at all desirable.” “Why not?” asked his host again. “We want nothing of that sort in Mentmore,” said Fothersley decisively. “It is, in its way, the most perfect specimen of an English village in the country—I might say in England. Building new cottages is only the thin end of the wedge.” “They appear to be wanted,” said North, pushing the cigars towards his guest. “That is the Government’s business,” answered Mr. Fothersley, making a careful selection. “And we may at least hope they will put them up in suitable places. Thank Heaven the price of land here is prohibitive. There, however, is the danger of these newly rich people. They must spend their money somehow. However, it may not be true. I only heard it this morning.” “Did she say anything about it, Roger?” asked Mrs. North. “Yes she mentioned it,” answered North curtly. Mrs. North made an exaggerated gesture of despair as she struggled with a cigarette. She had never succeeded in mastering the art of smoking. “Are you going to tell us what we want to know or not?” she asked, with ominous calmness. “Do you advise calling on the woman, or don’t you?” Here Violet Riversley broke in. “When will you learn to put things quite plainly to father?” she asked. “You know he can’t understand our euphuisms. I suppose it’s one of the defects of a scientific brain.” She helped herself to a cigarette and held it out to North for a light. “What we want to know, father, is just this. Do you think Miss Seer is likely to subscribe to the Hunt and various other things we are interested in? If to this she adds the desire to entertain us, so much the better, but the subscriptions are the primary things.”