There was complexity of element enough in the thing she was on her way to do, Bettina was thinking, as she was driven over the white ribbon of country road that unrolled over rise and hollow, between the sheep-dotted greenness of fields and the scented hedges.  The soft beauty enclosing her was a little shut out from her by her mental attitude.  She brought forward for her own decisions upon suitable action a number of possible situations she might find herself called upon to confront.  The one thing necessary was that she should be prepared for anything whatever, even for Rosy’s not being pleased to see her, or for finding Sir Nigel a thoroughly reformed and amiable character.

“It is the thing which seemingly cannot happen which one is most likely to find one’s self face to face with.  It will be a little awkward to arrange, if he has developed every domestic virtue, and is delighted to see me.”

Under such rather confusing conditions her plan would be to present to them, as an affectionate surprise, the unheralded visit, which might appear a trifle uncalled for.  She felt happily sure of herself under any circumstances not partaking of the nature of collisions at sea.  Yet she had not behaved absolutely ill at the time of the threatened catastrophe in the Meridiana.  Her remembrance, an oddly sudden one, of the definite manner of the red-haired second-class passenger, assured her of that.  He had certainly had all his senses about him, and he had spoken to her as a person to be counted on.

Her pulse beat a little more hurriedly as the brougham entered Stornham village.  It was picturesque, but struck her as looking neglected.  Many of the cottages had an air of dilapidation.  There were many broken windows and unmended garden palings.  A suggested lack of whitewash in several cases was not cheerful.

“I know nothing of the duties of English landlords,” she said, looking through her carriage window, “but I should do it myself, if I were Rosy.”

She saw, as she was taken through the park gateway, that that structure was out of order, and that damaged diamond panes peered out from under the thickness of the ivy massing itself over the lodge.

“Ah!” was her thought, “it does not promise as it should.  Happy people do not let things fall to pieces.”

Even winding avenue, and spreading sward, and gorse, and broom, and bracken, enfolding all the earth beneath huge trees, were not fair enough to remove a sudden remote fear which arose in her rapidly reasoning mind.  It suggested to her a point of view so new that, while she was amazed at herself for not having contemplated it before, she found herself wishing that the coachman would drive rather more slowly, actually that she might have more time to reflect.

They were nearing a dip in the park, where there was a lonely looking pool.  The bracken was thick and high there, and the sun, which had just broken through a cloud, had pierced the trees with a golden gleam.