The gentlemen were too well-bred to smile at this statement, yet it secretly amused both. Everyone knew that the undeniable good feeling which existed between Sir Julius and his wife was mainly due to their diverse interests in life, which kept them more or less apart. Lady Corsoon was always fluttering about as a society butterfly, while Sir Julius remained constantly in the City, earning money for her to spend. It was little credit to either that they were civil to one another on the rare occasions when they met. Cain and Abel themselves would not have quarrelled when only meeting--as the saying goes--once in a blue moon But Lady Corsoon felt quite certain that she was a model wife and a typical British matron (new style), and prattled on about her domestic happiness until it was time to start for Gerby Hall. "Vernon will escort you two ladies," said Towton, who was in riding kit, and exhibited a more youthful air than usual. "I can follow." "You won't ride to Gatehead until you have called at the Hall," urged Lady Corsoon; "for I may need you to insist upon Ida coming to The Grange." "I shall assuredly be at Gerby Hall in half an hour, more or less," replied the Colonel quietly. "But I should not think of insisting upon Ida becoming my guest unless she honours me of her own free will with a visit." "Oh, nonsense," said Lady Corsoon pettishly. "When you know how infatuated she is with this woman Hest." And all the way down the winding road she lamented that Ida was so impossible, and the owner of Gerby Hall so second-rate. "For she is second-rate," finished Lady Corsoon triumphantly. "I always said so, and would say so with my dying breath." In due time the trio arrived at the gloomy Hall, and were shown by the fat maid into the dingy drawing-room. It was less chill and dismal on this occasion, as the windows were wide open and the warm breath of the day stole in to ameliorate the damp atmosphere, as did the sunshine to lighten the darkness. In the glare of day the furniture looked quite faded, and the hangings extremely shabby; but there was something dignified about the ancient room which impressed even Lady Corsoon. "A very quaint old place," she said surveying it through her lorgnette; "but damp. They ought to have a fire in the grate." "They couldn't very well have it anywhere else, mamma," giggled Lucy. "My dear, pray do not afflict me with your cheap wit. You perfectly well understand my meaning. I shall take this chair, as the light tries my eyes." So saying she selected a seat with its back to the windows, but less to preserve her eyesight than to prevent Miss Hest from seeing too plain evidence of her age. She throned herself in the spacious chair with the air of a queen, and assumed a dignified mein as the door opened to admit Ida and her hostess. Lady Corsoon's first remark was scarcely polite.