In stature she was rather under than over medium height; her figure was trim and active, and she always dressed herself with scrupulous care and excellent taste. She was nearer sixty than fifty, but could ride and drive as well as anyone in the county, and she could work for hours in the garden without fatigue. Her garden and her poultry were her two special hobbies, but she had innumerable interests beyond her own private concerns, both in the small world of Whitbury and in the large world beyond. She was a keen politician and a staunch Tory, and was convinced that if the world went on long at its present pace, it would shortly come to an end, to which goal, indeed, it was rapidly advancing. Miss Marjory was reading her letters, and by-and-by she said, in her sharp, quick way: ‘Bother the man!’ ‘What man?’ asked Ethel. ‘Is anything wrong?’ questioned Horace. ‘Everything will be wrong if I am turned out of my house,’ said Miss Marjory. ‘And, what’s more, I won’t go—no, not for anybody.’ ‘Who wants you to?’ questioned Ethel, opening her blue eyes. ‘Nobody would dare to turn you out, Cousin Marjory.’ Miss Marjory laughed grimly. ‘Landlords and lawyers dare anything; but I’m not going, so there’s an end of it.’ ‘But what has happened?’ asked Horace. ‘How can you be turned out? I thought you had the house on a long lease.’ ‘Long leases come to an end in time, child. I did not know mine had so nearly expired. Twenty-eight years gone since we came here—how time flies!’ ‘And are you going to be turned out?’ asked Ethel, with interest. ‘Oh, Cousin Marjory, what a shame!’ ‘I’m not gone yet, and I don’t see myself going,’ was Miss Marjory’s answer, as she nodded her head and looked unutterable things. ‘Besides, it has not come to that yet; only it looks like the thin end of the wedge, and I won’t have it.’ ‘What have you heard? Has your landlord written?’ ‘No; only the agent, Mr. Wetherby, who takes the rent and sees to the repairs. He writes to remind me that the lease has nearly run out, and says that it will be his duty to advise his client that matters have changed a good deal since that lease was drawn up, and that a much higher rental might now be demanded. Now I call that a crying shame. Look at all I have done for the place—why, no one would know it for the same, and then to go and demand more rent! But there is no gratitude or honour left in the world nowadays, I think. Oh yes, child, I know I have plenty of money; I could just as well pay £150 as £100 for my house; but it’s the injustice of the thing that angers me. Here I go spending time and money and labour unsparingly to improve the place, and then I am told I must pay a higher rent for it. Oh, it’s infamous!’ ‘Well, perhaps the landlord won’t take the agent’s advice. Perhaps he will go on in the old way. You don’t know yet.’