"Perhaps he would like to shoot with my guests on Thursday?" she suggested graciously. Mr. Hurd did not seem altogether pleased. "It has never been the custom, madam," he remarked, "for either my son or myself to be associated with the Thorpe shooting parties." "Some customs," she remarked pleasantly, "are well changed, even in Thorpe. We shall expect him." Mr. Hurd's mouth reminded her for a moment of a steel trap. She could see that he disapproved, but she had no intention of giving way. He began to tie up his papers, and she watched him with some continuance of that wave of interest which he had somehow contrived to excite in her. The signature of one of the letters which he was methodically folding, caught her attention. "What a strange name!" she remarked. "Victor Macheson! Who is he?" Mr. Hurd unfolded the letter. The ghost of a smile flickered upon his lips. "A preacher, apparently," he answered. "The letter is one asking permission to give a series of what he terms religious lectures in Harrison's large barn!" Her eyebrows were gently raised. Her tone was one of genuine surprise. "What, in Thorpe?" she demanded. "In Thorpe!" Mr. Hurd acquiesced. She took the letter and read it. Her perplexity was in no manner diminished. "The man seems in earnest," she remarked. "He must either be a stranger to this part of the country, or an extremely impertinent person. I presume, Mr. Hurd, that nothing has been going on in the place with which I am unacquainted?" "Certainly not, madam," he answered. "There has been no drunkenness?" she remarked. "The young people have, I presume, been conducting their love-making discreetly?" The lines of Mr. Hurd's mouth were a trifle severe. One could imagine that he found her modern directness of speech indelicate. "There have been no scandals of any sort connected with the village, madam," he assured her. "To the best of my belief, all of our people are industrious, sober and pious. They attend church regularly. As you know, we have not a public-house or a dissenting place of worship in the village." "The man must be a fool," she said deliberately. "You did not, of course, give him permission to hold these services?" "Certainly not," the agent answered. "I refused it absolutely." The lady rose, and Mr. Hurd understood that he was dismissed. "You will tell your son about Thursday?" she reminded him. "I will deliver your message, madam," he answered. She nodded her farewell as the footman opened the door. "Everything seems to be most satisfactory, Mr. Hurd," she said. "I shall probably be here for several weeks, so come up again if there is anything you want me to sign." "I am much obliged, madam," the agent answered.