Miss Pink received the full shock of this information without receding from her position by a hair-breadth.

“An English gentlewoman offers a fit alliance to any man living who seeks her hand in marriage,” said Miss Pink.  “Isabel’s mother (you may not be aware of it) was the daughter of an English clergyman—­”

“And Isabel’s father was a chemist in a country town,” added Lady Lydiard.

“Isabel’s father,” rejoined Miss Pink, “was attached in a most responsible capacity to the useful and honorable profession of Medicine.  Isabel is, in the strictest sense of the word, a young gentlewoman.  If you contradict that for a single instant, Lady Lydiard, you will oblige me to leave the room.”

Those last words produced a result which Miss Pink had not anticipated—­they roused Lady Lydiard to assert herself.  As usual in such cases, she rose superior to her own eccentricity.  Confronting Miss Pink, she now spoke and looked with the gracious courtesy and the unpresuming self-confidence of the order to which she belonged.

“For Isabel’s own sake, and for the quieting of my conscience,” she answered, “I will say one word more, Miss Pink, before I relieve you of my presence.  Considering my age and my opportunities, I may claim to know quite as much as you do of the laws and customs which regulate society in our time.  Without contesting your niece’s social position—­and without the slightest intention of insulting you—­I repeat that the rank which Mr. Hardyman inherits makes it simply impossible for him even to think of marrying Isabel.  You will do well not to give him any opportunities of meeting with her alone.  And you will do better still (seeing that he is so near a neighbor of yours) if you permit Isabel to return to my protection, for a time at least.  I will wait to hear from you when you have thought the matter over at your leisure.  In the mean time, if I have inadvertently offended you, I ask your pardon—­and I wish you good-evening.”

She bowed, and walked to the door.  Miss Pink, as resolute as ever in maintaining her pretensions, made an effort to match the great lady on her own ground.

“Before you go, Lady Lydiard, I beg to apologize if I have spoken too warmly on my side,” she said.  “Permit me to send for your carriage.”

“Thank you, Miss Pink.  My carriage is only at the village inn.  I shall enjoy a little walk in the cool evening air.  Mr. Troy, I have no doubt, will give me his arm.”  She bowed once more, and quietly left the room.

Reaching the little back garden of the villa, through an open door at the further end of the hall, Lady Lydiard found Tommie rolling luxuriously on Miss Pink’s flower-beds, and Isabel and Mr. Troy in close consultation on the gravel walk.

She spoke to the lawyer first.

“They are baiting the horses at the inn,” she said.  “I want your arm, Mr. Troy, as far as the village—­and, in return, I will take you back to London with me.  I have to ask your advice about one or two little matters, and this is a good opportunity.”