Not so, however, moved the keen mind of Minne-Adélaïde. That astute woman, ruffled by the inexplicable absence of her host, depressed by the barbarism of the view from her window, and at all times prone to the more passionate interpretation of life’s problems, set herself to the careful watching of Kingston in his relations with this strange new cousin of his wife’s. Mrs. Mimburn from the beginning was no friend to Gundred. She could not but suspect that Gundred disapproved of her. No persuasions could induce Gundred to call her ‘Minne.’ To Mrs. Mimburn’s complete disgust, the new niece persisted in calling her ‘Aunt Minna.’ Thus predisposed against her hostess, Minne-Adélaïde unfavourably noted all Gundred’s limitations, her apparent coldness, her lack of appetizing brilliancy, of appeal, of all the many attractions with which a wise wife arms herself against the inevitable satiety of marriage. In an evening’s space, Mrs. Mimburn became convinced that Kingston must be dreadfully bored by this unsalted wife of his, with her frigid little excellencies. She kept a sparkling eye wide open for complications. When she heard that Kingston was on the hills with a female cousin, she smiled in one corner of her mouth; when time went by, and he was discovered to be spending the night with her on a mountain, she smiled in both, and licked her lips with a delightful foreboding of catastrophe. She welcomed her nephew with perfunctory joy when he at last appeared, and devoted her keenest attention to the examination of Isabel. And at once her experienced glance discerned what it had taken Kingston weeks to discover, what Gundred was still a long way from discovering. She saw that Isabel was attractive--illogically, unreasonably so, but attractive all the same--even unusually so. And Minne-Adélaïde knew that it is just these illogically fascinating people who do the most harm, and establish the most devastating tyranny over men’s roving tastes. ‘Aha!’ thought Minne-Adélaïde. Time began to hang heavy on her hands, and she fell to scanning the future with a hopeful anticipation. The days passed by in their usual lethargic orderliness. Nothing happened, nothing seemed likely to happen. Kingston and Isabel were rather better friends than before, perhaps, but Gundred was so clearly satisfied with the situation that no perils appeared to threaten. Minne-Adélaïde began to grow a little disappointed. Neither Kingston, Isabel, nor Gundred gave her anything to be interested in. Their behaviour continued merely amiable and ordinary. Perhaps Kingston had grown more ardent in his treatment of Gundred, but Mrs. Mimburn was not in a position to realize the fact. Certainly he grew daily more and more affectionate; he pulled her perforce into every conversation, he devoted himself to her comfort, he never allowed himself to be happy out of her sight.