“Well, I’ve worn very well,” said Mrs. Braxfield complacently. “We all do—and as I say, my daughter has inherited the family good looks. And as for her accomplishments—well, if she isn’t a well-educated young woman, it’s her own fault. She went to the Girl’s High School at Selcaster from being ten until she was fifteen; then she’d two years at the very best boarding-school I could hear of in London, and she finished off with twelve months in Paris. Cost me no end of money, I can tell you, her education did! And having brought her up like that, well, I sold my business at the Sceptre and retired here, so that the girl would have proper surroundings. And it was not so long after coming here, Mr. Fransemmery, that I found out that she and young Harry Markenmore were sweet on each other, and meeting in these woods and so on. I wasn’t going to have that going on unless I knew what it all meant, and what it was going to lead to, so I had it out with him. Then he got me to consent to an engagement, though he persuaded me to let him keep that secret from his father and sister for a while. And in the end he got round me about this marriage—he promised that if I’d only consent to that, he’d tell Sir Anthony of it very soon afterwards. So I gave way, and I saw them married, in a London church, and just afterwards Sir Anthony fell ill, and Harry made that an excuse for putting things off, and though there were times—plenty of them, Mr. Fransemmery!—when he could have told his father—and of course, he could have told his sister at any time—he was always making excuses. So when Sir Anthony died the other day, and this affair of Guy’s happened, and Harry came into the title and estates, I made up my mind that I’d have the thing seen to and put right at once, and I told him so. I’ve seen him twice today, and he’s just like every Markenmore that ever I knew—obstinate and self-willed! He wanted to put it off again—until his father and brother were buried. I said No!—my daughter was going to take her proper position as mistress of Markenmore Court tomorrow morning. And so she will!” “I think, ma’am,” observed Mr. Fransemmery quietly, “you said just now that you had announced this marriage?” “I have!” answered Mrs. Braxfield. “To whom, may I ask?” enquired the elder visitor. “Mr. Blick, I think, has heard it from somebody in the village?” “I announced it to the proper people,” replied Mrs. Braxfield with spirit. “I’m not the sort of person to do otherwise. I announced it to the Vicar; to Mr. Chilford, the Markenmore’s family solicitor; and to Mrs. Perrin, the wife of the principal tenant-farmer.” “With leave, I suppose, to tell the news to any one?” suggested Mr. Fransemmery. “Of course! Why not, Mr. Fransemmery?” exclaimed Mrs. Braxfield. “My daughter is Lady Markenmore!”