The intruder was a young lady. She was dressed in white, her pale gold hair was in itself an aristocracy, and her narrow slippered feet were dainty to look upon. 'Don't let me disturb you,' she said. 'This is my favourite seat; but I pray you not to move, there is plenty of room.' So amiable was she in voice and manner that Mrs Shepherd could not but remain, although she had already recognized the girl as one of the Major's sisters. Fearing to betray herself, greatly nervous, Mrs Shepherd answered briefly Miss Shepherd's allusions to the beauty of the view. At the end of a long silence Miss Shepherd said-- 'I think you know my brother, Major Shepherd.' Mrs Shepherd hesitated, and then she said: 'No. I have never heard the name.' 'Are you sure? Of course, I may be mistaken; but--' Ethel made pause, and looked Mrs Shepherd straight in the face. Smiling sadly, Mrs Shepherd said-- 'Likenesses are so deceptive.' 'Perhaps, but my memory is pretty good for faces.... It was two or three months ago, we were going up to London, and I saw my brother get into the train with a lady who looked like you. She really was very like you.' Mrs Shepherd smiled and shook her head. 'I do not know the lady my brother was with, but I've often thought I should like to meet her.' 'Perhaps your brother will introduce you.' 'No, I don't think he will. She has come to live at Branbury, and now people talk more then ever. They say that he is secretly married.' 'And you believe it?' 'I don't see why it shouldn't be true. My brother is a good fellow in many ways, but, like all other men, he is selfish. He is just the man who would keep his wife hidden away in a lonely little lodging rather than admit that he had made a _mesalliance_. What I don't understand is why she consents to be kept out of the way. Just fancy giving up this beautiful place, these woods and fields, these gardens, that house for, for--' 'I suppose this woman gives up these things because she loves your brother. Do you not understand self-sacrifice?' 'Oh yes, if I loved a man.... But I think a woman is silly to allow a man to cheat and fool her to the top of his bent.' 'What does it matter if she is happy?' Ethel tossed her head. Then at the end of a long silence she said: 'Would you care to see the house?' 'No, thank you, Miss; I must be getting on. Goodbye.' 'You cannot get back that way, you must return through the pleasure-grounds. I'll walk with you. A headache kept me at home this afternoon. The others have gone to a tennis-party.... It is a pity I was mistaken. I should like to meet the person my brother goes every day to Branbury to see. I should like to talk with her. My brother has, I'm afraid, persuaded her that we would not receive her. But this is not true; we should only be too glad to receive her. I have heard Father and Mother say so--not to Charles, they dare not speak to him on the subject, but they have to me.'