’Berta, you have worked to false lines.  A creeping up among the useless lumber of our nation that’ll be the first to burn if there comes a flare.  I never see such a deserter of your own lot as you be!  But you were always like it, Berta, and I am ashamed of ye.  More than that, a good woman never marries twice.’

‘You are too hard, Sol,’ said the poor viscountess, almost crying.  ’I’ve done it all for you!  Even if I have made a mistake, and given my ambition an ignoble turn, don’t tell me so now, or you may do more harm in a minute than you will cure in a lifetime.  It is absurd to let republican passions so blind you to fact.  A family which can be honourably traced through history for five hundred years, does affect the heart of a person not entirely hardened against romance.  Whether you like the peerage or no, they appeal to our historical sense and love of old associations.’

’I don’t care for history.  Prophecy is the only thing can do poor men any good.  When you were a girl, you wouldn’t drop a curtsey to ’em, historical or otherwise, and there you were right.  But, instead of sticking to such principles, you must needs push up, so as to get girls such as you were once to curtsey to you, not even thinking marriage with a bad man too great a price to pay for’t.’

’A bad man?  What do you mean by that?  Lord Mountclere is rather old, but he’s worthy.  What did you mean, Sol?’

‘Nothing—­a mere sommat to say.’

At that moment Picotee emerged from behind a tree, and told her sister that Lord Mountclere was looking for her.

‘Well, Sol, I cannot explain all to you now,’ she said.  ’I will send for you in London.’  She wished him goodbye, and they separated, Picotee accompanying Sol a little on his way.

Ethelberta was greatly perturbed by this meeting.  After retracing her steps a short distance, she still felt so distressed and unpresentable that she resolved not to allow Lord Mountclere to see her till the clouds had somewhat passed off; it was but a bare act of justice to him to hide from his sight such a bridal mood as this.  It was better to keep him waiting than to make him positively unhappy.  She turned aside, and went up the valley, where the park merged in miles of wood and copse.

She opened an iron gate and entered the wood, casually interested in the vast variety of colours that the half-fallen leaves of the season wore:  more, much more, occupied with personal thought.  The path she pursued became gradually involved in bushes as well as trees, giving to the spot the character rather of a coppice than a wood.  Perceiving that she had gone far enough, Ethelberta turned back by a path which at this point intersected that by which she had approached, and promised a more direct return towards the Court.  She had not gone many steps among the hazels, which here formed a perfect thicket, when she observed a belt of holly-bushes in their midst; towards the outskirts of these an opening on her left hand directly led, thence winding round into a clear space of greensward, which they completely enclosed.  On this isolated and mewed-up bit of lawn stood a timber-built cottage, having ornamental barge-boards, balconettes, and porch.  It was an erection interesting enough as an experiment, and grand as a toy, but as a building contemptible.