The corn on Bleacres was rapidly ripening under the beams of the powerful sun. The Manor-house was islanded amidst a golden sea of grain, the waves of which rolled up even to its ancient walls. The winding path to the boundary channel was still the sole means of approach, but few people came up this to the house, as the Vands were not popular. Henry certainly was approved of, on account of his manners, his affliction, and his violin-playing; but the neighbours, ignorant of the truth, could not forgive his wife for robbing Bella of her inheritance. Now that she was rich and re-married, it was Mrs. Vand's intention to become the great lady of the district, but hitherto she had not met with much success in her bid for popularity. But, in spite of cold looks and significant speeches, Mrs. Vand went from house to house, talking of a Harvest Home fete, which she proposed to give as soon as the grain was reaped. Her husband would not accompany her on these social visits, as he was shrewd enough to see that only time would ameliorate the bad impression which Mrs. Vand's callous conduct had created. In vain he tried to show his wife that it would be wise to retire for a short period. Mrs. Vand scorned such Fabian tactics, and did her best to take by storm the position she felt that her wealth and personality deserved. The more she was snubbed, the more she persisted, and there was no doubt but what, in the end, she would gain what she wanted, by wearing down those who resented her conduct. Mrs. Vand paid a visit even to Dora Ankers, choosing a Saturday afternoon, when she knew that Bella was walking on the common with her lover. The little school-mistress received her coldly, as she had never liked the woman from the first day she had set eyes on her. But Mrs. Vand, in the most flamboyant of costumes, was all smiles and small talk, refusing to see for one moment the chilly reception she was receiving. "You really must come to our Harvest Home, Miss Ankers," she babbled; "what with Henry's taste and my money, it will be wonderfully gay and bright and artistic. Everyone will help to reap the corn, and in the evening we will have a ball, at which Henry will play old English tunes, to which we shall dance. You must come. I shall take no refusal." "How can I?" asked Dora tartly, "seeing that your niece whom you have treated so badly, is stopping with me." Mrs. Vand drew up her stout figure with great dignity. "That Bella Huxham left her home and my guardianship is purely her own fault," she replied. "I promised to look after her, at poor Jabez's request. But she chose to behave in a way of which I did not approve, and to engage herself to a man, who is not the husband I should have picked for her." "Bella has every right to choose a husband for herself," retorted Miss Ankers. "Girls are not clever enough to choose the right man. And Mr. Lister----" "You know nothing about him, Mrs. Vand."