He got up very early the next morning, intending to pass away unseen. In the car put at his disposal; he found a small figure in a holland-frock, leaning back against the cushions so that some sandalled toes pointed up at the chauffeur's back. They belonged to little Ann, who in the course of business had discovered the vehicle before the door. Her sudden little voice under her sudden little nose, friendly but not too friendly, was comforting to Courtier. “Are you going? I can come as, far as the gate.” “That is lucky.” “Yes. Is that all your luggage?” “I'm afraid it is.” “Oh! It's quite a lot, really, isn't it?” “As much as I deserve.” “Of course you don't have to take guinea-pigs about with you?” “Not as a rule.” “I always do. There's great-Granny!” There certainly was Lady Casterley, standing a little back from the drive, and directing a tall gardener how to deal with an old oak-tree. Courtier alighted, and went towards her to say good-bye. She greeted him with a certain grim cordiality. “So you are going! I am glad of that, though you quite understand that I like you personally.” “Quite!” Her eyes gleamed maliciously. “Men who laugh like you are dangerous, as I've told you before!” Then, with great gravity; she added “My granddaughter will marry Lord Harbinger. I mention that, Mr. Courtier, for your peace of mind. You are a man of honour; it will go no further.” Courtier, bowing over her hand, answered: “He will be lucky.” The little old lady regarded him unflinchingly. “He will, sir. Good-bye!” Courtier smilingly raised his hat. His cheeks were burning. Regaining the car, he looked round. Lady Casterley was busy once more exhorting the tall gardener. The voice of little Ann broke in on his thoughts: “I hope you'll come again. Because I expect I shall be here at Christmas; and my brothers will be here then, that is, Jock and Tiddy, not Christopher because he's young. I must go now. Good-bye! Hallo, Susie!” Courtier saw her slide away, and join the little pale adoring figure of the lodge-keeper's daughter. The car passed out into the lane. If Lady Casterley had planned this disclosure, which indeed she had not, for the impulse had only come over her at the sound of Courtier's laugh, she could not have, devised one more effectual, for there was deep down in him all a wanderer's very real distrust, amounting almost to contempt, of people so settled and done for; as aristocrats or bourgeois, and all a man of action's horror of what he called puking and muling. The pursuit of Barbara with any other object but that of marriage had naturally not occurred to one who had little sense of conventional morality, but much self-respect; and a secret endeavour to cut out Harbinger, ending in a marriage whereat he would figure as a sort of pirate, was quite as little to the taste of a man not unaccustomed to think himself as good as other people.