By some tacit agreement the "talk," which on Mrs Maryon's part had been one underlying motive of the invitation, was during the first few days evaded. They did talk, but not so much about Winifred as of themselves, their personal feelings, and almost at once Mrs Maryon knew that she had utterly misjudged this girl, or woman, as Hertha preferred to call herself. Though it had arisen through no fault of her own, Winifred's mother was acutely conscious of the prejudice she had harboured against Miss Norreys, and it now seemed to her as if she could not do enough to make amends for the mistaken opinion she was yet far too delicate-minded to avow to its object; and Hertha, on her side, bided her time for the explanation which she knew was unavoidable. She was feeling her way, anxious not to blame Winifred unduly, difficult as she found it to understand the girl, or to sympathise with the line she had taken up. But the long _tete-a-tetes_ with her friend which Miss Maryon had looked forward to did not come to pass. Instead, Hertha seemed never tired of talking to her hostess, relating to her as they grew to know each other better, tender recollections of her own mother and bygone days, which she seldom now allowed herself to dwell upon. And Winifred, one of whose good qualities was a remarkable absence of jealousy, consoled herself by reflecting that Hertha was probably actuated by real regard for herself. "She sees that it will make everything easier for mamma to like and trust her, and thus to get rid of all these old prejudices against women with a career," she thought. Altogether the days passed pleasantly. Hertha allowed herself, for the time, to live in the present. Her interest in both Celia and Louise deepened; of Celia's unusual talent she became convinced, and she determined to do anything in her power to help the young girl to cultivate it. Mr Maryon recovered sufficiently to join the family party in the later hours of the day, when his cheerfulness made one almost forget his chronic invalidism. "I like your cousin Lennox so much," said Hertha one day to Celia; "I had no idea from the little I had heard of him that he was so--well, interesting, as well as sterling." "I am so glad you like him," said Celia, her face lighting up. "Yes, he is _very_ nice, though not, perhaps, exactly clever." "He is not stupid," said Hertha. "Oh, no; not stupid. He's just the sort of man that would have got on splendidly if he had had a clever wife. It is such a pity," and she sighed a little. "I daresay you have noticed--he is so devoted to Winifred, and she doesn't care for him in the least." "To Winifred!" said Miss Norreys. "No, I certainly should not have thought so. Are you sure--it is not one of Winifred's freaks to think so?" she was going to add, but stopped in time.