Sir Robert flattered himself that she had at last broken down under the influence of the sable cloak or the handsome pendant. But he noted, with a slight uneasiness, that in proportion as she was more satisfied, the faces of Rhoda and Minnie were graver and more disturbed. “Well, Sarah, have you shown the girls your pretty things?” asked Sir Robert as they all took their seats at the table. Rhoda and Minnie looked at each other uncomfortably. The baronet glanced from one to the other, and then turned to his wife, upon whose face there was a most disagreeable look of gratified malice. “Oh, yes, they’ve seen the things,” she said coolly. “As I don’t want another cloak, I offered it to Minnie, but she thought it was too old for her; and I offered Miss Pembury the pendant, as I hate pendants myself and I thought she might like it. But she didn’t care to accept it either. So I sent the cloak and the pendant, and the hats up to the Priory, in case Aileen or Philippa may like them.” There was a long silence. Sir Robert went on eating his soup without gratifying her malice by so much as a look. The other two ladies followed his example, with scalding tears in their eyes. They all waited for the explosion which, they all felt sure, must come at last, after such a shocking exhibition of ingratitude and insolence on the part of his unworthy wife. But, while all had their eyes cast down, Sir Robert’s voice, grave, quiet, apparently wholly unaffected by what had passed, broke the awkward silence. “And Miss Pembury,” he said, “I have some news that will interest you, I think. I saw, in a shop in Piccadilly, the companion print to my ‘Farmer’s Daughter.’” Rhoda and Minnie looked up, smiling and admiring his courage. Lady Sarah was defeated. Her lip trembled, and she had the grace to look ashamed of herself, as she began nervously to play with her bread. CHAPTER XVIII. THE COMPANION’S ORDEAL It was a relief to them all when Sir Robert made an excuse of urgent letters to write and bid the ladies good-night immediately after dinner, but on the other hand, Minnie and Rhoda felt very uncomfortable at the prospect of spending the evening in the society of Lady Sarah. As it turned out, however, things went off better than they had expected. No sooner was Lady Sarah out of her husband’s sight than her spirits returned, and she had the effrontery to say to Rhoda, in a low voice, when Minnie was at the other end of the drawing-room: “You see how useless it is for you good people to make plots and plans for bad ones like me, don’t you?” Rhoda could not restrain her indignation: “It is shocking, Lady Sarah, that you should treat your husband so, for no fault but his being too forgiving.” Lady Sarah looked frankly and boldly into her eyes. “Forgiving! What has he to forgive?” she asked, as if in all innocence.