And so Miss Cassy rambled on in a disconnected fashion, one thought suggesting another, while Una sat staring out of the window, with Reginald's last letter in her hand, wondering what was best to be done. "I don't trust Mr. Beaumont," she said at length. "He is not a good companion for Reginald." "Oh, my dear," said Miss Cassy, picking up the tea-cosy, which she kept by her to put on her head when she felt cold, "such a charming man--quite a Lord what's-his-name in his manners." "His manners are all right, I've no doubt," returned Una drily, "but what about his morals?" Miss Cassy gave a little girlish scream and extinguished herself with the tea-cosy. "What dreadful things you do say, Una," she observed in a shocked tone. "So very odd--quite like Zola, so very French." "My dear aunty, I know you are one of those people who think that unmarried girls should be absolutely ignorant of such things. I don't agree with you. There's no need of them to parade their knowledge of evil, but they cannot help hearing about it, however carefully brought up. I know London is not a good place for a young man with plenty of money, especially when he is so inexperienced as Reginald--besides, Mr. Beaumont is a man of the world, whom I really believe lives by his wits--and if it be a case of his wits against Reginald's, my dear aunt, I'm afraid poor Reginald will come off worst." "What's to be done then?" said Miss Cassy blankly. "Do you think if I sent dear Reginald some tracts----" "I don't think that would be much use," interrupted Una laughing. "No, I'll go over to Garsworth to see the vicar--he will know what is best to be done. I will show him Reginald's letter, and I'm sure he will agree with me that it will be wise to withdraw him from Mr. Beaumont's influence." "Why doesn't Mr. Bolby look after him?" said Miss Cassy indignantly. "I daresay Mr. Bolby has got his own business to look after," replied Una with a faint sigh; "besides, he only regards Reginald from a monetary point of view, nothing more--will you come to the vicarage with me, aunt?" "Oh yes, dear," cried Miss Cassy with great alacrity, "the walk will do me good, and I'm so dull--I'll talk to dear Mrs. Larcher, you know, she's so odd, but still she's better than one's own company, isn't she, dear?--let us get ready at once--the rain has gone off I see." "Then let us follow the example of the rain," said Una with a laugh, and the two ladies went away to prepare themselves for their walk. When they sallied forth with heavy cloaks and thick boots, they found that for once the sun had shown his face and was looking through the watery clouds in a somewhat feeble fashion. The ground under foot was wet and spongy, still it was better than being immured in the dreary Grange, and as they walked rapidly along their spirits rose in spite of the depressing influence of the weather.