“Columbus!” said Juliet.  “I’m not sure that he’s a very nice man, but there’s something about him—­something I can’t quite place—­that makes me wonder if I’ve met him somewhere before.  Would you like to go and live at the Court, Columbus?”

Columbus leaned against her knee in sentimental silence.  He evidently did not care where he went so long as he was with the object of his whole-souled devotion.

She stooped and kissed him between the eyes.  “Dear doggie!” she murmured.  “I wonder—­are we happier—­here?”

CHAPTER VIII

MRS. FIELDING

When the great high-powered car from Shale Court stopped at the gate of the blacksmith’s cottage on the following morning Mrs. Rickett, who was feeding her young chicks in the yard outside the forge, was thrown into a state of wild agitation.  Everyone in Little Shale stood in awe of the squire’s wife.

She went nervously to enquire what was wanted, and met the chauffeur at the gate.

“It’s all right, Mrs. Rickett.  Don’t fluster yourself!” he said.  “It’s Miss Moore we’re after.  Go and tell her, will you?”

Mrs. Rickett looked at the bold-eyed young man with disfavour.  “Well, you’re not expecting her to come out to you, are you?” she retorted tartly.

He smiled.  “Yes, I rather think we are, Mrs. Fielding doesn’t want to get out.  Where is she?”

Mrs. Rickett drew in her breath.  “But Miss Moore is a lady born!” she objected.  “Haven’t you got a card I can take her?”

Mrs. Rickett had lived among the gentry in her maiden days, and, as she was wont to assert, she knew what was what as well as anybody.  She had, moreover, a vigorous dislike for young Jack Green the chauffeur who, notwithstanding his airs,—­perhaps because of them,—­occupied a much lower plane in her estimation than his brother the schoolmaster.  But Jack was one of those people whom it is practically impossible to snub.  He merely continued to smile.

“Well, you’d better let me go and find her if you won’t,” he said, “or madam will be getting impatient.”

It was at this point that Juliet came upon the scene, walking up from the shore with her hair blowing in the breeze.  She carried a towel and a bathing dress on her arm.  Columbus trotted beside her, full of cheery self-importance.

She quickened her pace somewhat at sight of the car, and its occupant leaned forward with an imperious motion of the hand.  Her pale face gleamed behind her veil.

“Miss Moore, I believe?” she said, in her slightly insolent tones.

Juliet came to the side of the car.  The sun beat down upon her uncovered head.  She smiled a welcome.

“How do you do?  How kind of you to come and see me!  I am sorry I wasn’t here to receive you, but it was so glorious down on the shore that I stayed to dry my hair.  Do come in!”

“Oh, I can’t—­really!” protested Mrs. Fielding.  “I shall die if I don’t get a little air.  I thought perhaps you would like to come for a little spin with me.  But I suppose that is out of the question.”