Mrs. Poynsett made a sign of acquiescence, and Cecil pouted in her dignified way, though Mrs. Poynsett tried to improve matters by saying, “Then it appears that Miss Strangeways will have a series of Peel autographs, all in fact but the first generation.”

Common sense showed she was right, but Cecil still felt discontented, for she knew she had been resisted and confuted, and she believed it was all Mrs. Poynsett’s doing instead of Raymond’s.

And she became as mute as Anne for the next half-hour, nor did either Raymond or his mother venture on starting any fresh topic, lest there might be fresh jarring.

Only Anne presently came up to Mrs. Poynsett and tenderly purred with her over some little preparation for Miles.

Certainly Anne was the most improved in looks of all the three brides, who had arrived just a year ago.  The thin, scraggy Scotch girl, with the flabby, washed-out look alternating with angular rigidity was gone, but the softening and opening of her expression, the light that had come into her eyes, and had made them a lovely blue instead of pale gray; the rose-tint on her cheeks, the delicate rounded contour of her face, the improved carriage of her really fine figure, the traces of style in the braiding of her profuse flaxen hair, and the taste that was beginning to conquer in the dress, were all due to the thought that the Salamanca might soon be in harbour.  She sat among them still as a creature whose heart and spirit were not with them.

That some change must come was felt as inevitable by each woman, and it was Mrs. Poynsett who began, one forenoon when her son had brought a lease for her to sign.  “Raymond,” said she, “you know Church-house is to be vacant at Michaelmas.  I wish you would look at it, and see what repairs it wants, and if the drawing-room windows could be made to open on the lawn.”

“Are you hoping to tempt Miles to settle there?”

“No, I fear there is no hope of that; but I do not think an old broken-backed invalid ought to engross this great house.”

“Mother, I cannot hear you say so!  This is your own house!”

“So is the other,” she said, trying to smile, “and much fitter for my needs, with Susan and Jenkins to look after me.”

“There is no fit place for you but this.  You said that once.”

“Under very different circumstances.  All the younger boys were still under my wing, and needed the home, and I was strong and vigorous.  It would not have been acting right by them to have given up the place; but now they are all out in the world, and I am laid by, my stay here only interferes with what can be much better managed without me or my old servants.”

“I do not see that.  If any one moves, it should be ourselves.”

“You are wanted on the spot continually.  If Sirenwood were in the market, that might not be so much amiss.”

“I do not think that likely.  They will delay the sale in the hope of Eleonora’s marrying a rich man; besides, Mr. Charnock has set his mind upon Swanslea.  I hope this is from nothing Cecil has said or done!”