This was how all men of honor and honesty must regard the career of William Massarene; if the world in general had not done so it was only because the world is corrupt and venal itself and always open to purchase; the world it may roughly be said does not quarrel with its bread and butter. But what Hurstmanceaux felt was, she knew, that which every person of high principle would feel with regard to the vast ill-gotten wealth which she had inherited. She did not even quarrel with the patrician temper which had insulted herself; it was so much better and worthier than the general disposition of the times to condone anything to wealth. She suffered under it, but she did not resent it. Individually, to herself, it was unjust; but she could not expect him to know that or to believe in it. It did not help her on her difficult road; but it made her see only one issue to it. This she saw clearly. She walked slowly one day through the wood which was a portion of the little property; between the pine stems the grey water of the Channel was seen, dreamy, misty, and dull in a sunless day. Some colliers and a fishing-lugger with dingy canvas were drifting slowly through the windless air, under the low clouds. Her thoughts were not with the landscape, and she paced absently the path, strewn with fir-needles, which led to the cliff. She was roused by a little dog bustling gaily through the underwood and jumping upon her in recognition, whilst her own dog, whom she called Argus, immediately investigated the stranger’s credentials. A moment or two later pleasant cherry tones, which she had last heard on the deck of the steamer leaving Indian shores, reached her ear. “Hello, Miss Massarene! Whisky knows old friends. How are you, my dear? I was coming up to your house.” She turned and saw Lord Framlingham, with great pleasure: she had heard that he was in England for a few weeks, but had scarcely hoped to meet him unless she went up to town for the purpose. “Did you really come down here only to see me? That is very good of you,” she said gratefully. “The goodness is to myself. Besides, I could not show my face to my girls if I went back without having a chat with you. No thanks. I have lunched. If you are going for a walk, Whisky and I will go with you. “Is this big rough fellow yours?” he added, looking at Argus. “I dare say he’s very devoted, but I can’t say much for his breeding.” Katherine laughed slightly. “How like an Englishman! Why are ‘humans’ the only animals in whom you do not exact breeding?” They went on through the woods talking of his family, who had remained in India, and of the political matters which had brought him home for a personal conference with the Home Government. When they came out on to the head of the cliff they sat down in sight of the sea. “How homelike it all looks! That brown lugger, those leaden clouds, that rainy distance.”