After two days of Aldermaston Lucy had quite recovered her spirits—she had felt rather depressed at Hankey’s Mansions and not at all lightened at heart by her week of shopping under Aunt Pardew’s furtive guidance and rather checked congratulations. On the Monday morning she was standing with her parents and Clara in front of the beautiful old farm house, inhaling the scents of May, revelling with the eye over the landscape beauty she had so often recalled to herself in Africa. Farmer Josling had repeatedly given expression to the pleasure he had derived from the looks, manner, and hand-grip of his son-in-law, and Mrs. Josling still blushed and laughed at the remembrance of his having kissed her cheek. They could not help the gratification of feeling that their daughter’s second marriage was into a social stratum worthy of her looks, her superior education and their hopes for her.... Clara, walking away to glance at the bee-hives, called back to the group, "Here’s Mrs. Baines coming up from the road." Instinctively the parents withdrew into the porch of the house, leaving their daughter to meet Mrs. Baines for the first few minutes alone, with no other listeners to the sad story she had to tell. Lucy, like the bird fascinated by the snake, remained where she was, her fingers playing with a pansy she had just picked. Mrs. Baines, all in black, with black plumes to a large bonnet and black gloves, walked slowly and consideringly up to the spell-bound Lucy. When she was close to her she said: "_What ... have ... you done ... with ... my ... son?..._" "Oh! I ... I ... haven’t you heard?" stammered Lucy. "I _have_ heard ... and I’ve guessed much _more_ than I’ve heard.... _You ... you harlot—you adulteress—you—you strumpet!_" roared Mrs. Baines, who had been cooking her vengeance and rehearsing this scene with a dictionary, during the last twenty-four hours. And forthwith before Lucy could reply or any one intervene she had dealt her two terrific boxes on the ears, first on one side and then on the other. Lucy fell on to the pansy bed, temporarily stunned. Mr. Josling, scarcely able at first to believe ears and eyes, rushed out with a roar like a bull, picked up Mrs. Baines round her iron stays, as though she weighed no more than a wisp, ran round to the other side of the house where there was a great horse trough full of water, and soused in this the head and huge plumed bonnet of the angry woman. And again, giving her time to catch her breath, he plunged her head and bonnet beneath the water. Then, standing her on her feet, he said, "_There! that’ll_ cool your hot blood. That is some return for your half-killing my daughter—you _blasted she-tiger, you_ ... Be _off_! Or I’ll set the dogs on you.... I’ll..."