“But a regular old campaigner! I believe poor Fenchurch can’t call his soul his own. She’d sell the hunters under him without winking, and allows him a shilling a week for baccy. I won’t have her over here prying and picking. I’m not a mean chap, nor stingy, but when I put her in the brougham, I saw that she had a hamper of plants from the hothouse, the best of the spaniel pups, and a china jar. She told me, with a grin, she begged it of dearest Letty, who had two. She won’t come here again, I bet a thousand pounds!” But an experienced acquaintance would have backed Mrs. Fenchurch,--and won! CHAPTER XVI Sharsley, its spreading park, and somewhat neglected gardens, had been partly closed for years; the owner merely visiting it spasmodically, with lively parties for shooting or hunting. The situation was isolated with regard to other seats: it being the one great house of a poor and insignificant neighbourhood. When Blagdon married, people hoped that a new era was about to dawn; a pretty girl of good family would be warmly welcomed as the social queen, and the immediate residents hastened to wait upon the bride. First, came those known as ‘the small fry’ or the village; these included the two Miss Jessops--maiden ladies of gentle birth, churchy, poor, and kindly; Captain and Mrs. Howard, retired Army people, agreeable and middle-aged--who had seen the world; Mr. Byng, an Indian Civilian and keen politician, with two pretty daughters who bicycled after the hounds and kept prize poultry, and others of the same standing. But these were not the class of visitors that Blagdon desired to entertain, and his rudeness was insufferable and undisguised. When the Jessops, in their best bonnets, arrived to make a first and formal call, and were ceremoniously conducted into the grounds, where tea was laid in the shade, the instant Blagdon beheld these ladies approaching, he sprang to his feet and hastily departed in the opposite direction. Truly this was a bad moment for the bride! However, with many blushes and in halting sentences, she assured the Misses Jessop that her husband had suddenly remembered an important engagement; but Letty was a very poor liar, and her embarrassment, and her explanations, merely aggravated the situation. With a lofty air the ladies declined tea. Blagdon’s snub had been too gross, and what, after all, was _he_? The grandson of a collier, and they the granddaughters of an Archbishop! They were sorry for the poor child, his wife, talked to her condescendingly of flowers and the weather, and presently effected a stately departure. When Captain Howard drove up with his wife to make their first call at Sharsley, the windows being open, they heard a beautiful soprano singing ‘Love Not.’ “Ah, she’s in,” said Mrs. Howard. “I’m _so_ glad!” But an impassive footman who received their cards uttered a sonorous and decisive ‘Not at home,’ and they drove away, deeply mortified--the fate of many.