to dinner, arranged her chair, and
groped under the table for a footstool, leaving Katrine to follow, alone
and unnoticed. Never in all the years they had lived together had he
thought of a footstool for his sister's feet! As there was only one of
these articles in common use, she was obliged to do without the ordinary
support, and the feeling of discomfort lasted throughout the meal.

The curtains were undrawn, leaving a vista of garden sloping upward to
the knoll, the low panelled room was already dim, and the table was
lighted by candles in tall silver stands. A bowl of beautifully cut old
glass was piled high with roses, and the meal was dainty and well
chosen, for Katrine was on her mettle before Grizel's quizzical eyes.
Martin sat at the head of the table; he had the long thin face, the
deep-set eyes, the sensitive lips, which carry the mind instinctively to
the days of old. For him a stock and a fob would have seemed more
appropriate than twentieth-century attire. His eyes looked particularly
dark to-night; he held himself buoyantly erect.

Grizel rested both elbows on the table, and began feeding herself with
fragments of bread, before the soup was served.

"Excuse my bad manners. They're _so_ fashionable!" she mumbled in
explanation. She attacked her soup with a zest which one would hardly
have expected from so fragile a creature, and took little part in the
conversation until it was finished. Then once more she rested her
elbows on the table, and smiled across at her host.

"And so," she said lazily, "to-morrow is the Duke's bean-feast. It's no
end of a way, isn't it? How do we go?"

"Martin has engaged a car. Several neighbours wanted us to share, and
it was really quite a blessing to be able to refuse. Last year we went
with the Morlands, and they stuck to us like glue to the bitter end.
This time we shall be free."

"We three, and a second man. Who is the second man?"

"We three, and _no_ other man!"

Grizel dropped her hands on to the table, and stared with distended
eyes.

"But, my child, how absurd. I'm the most unexacting of critters but I
make it a principle, never to share a man! There _must_ be an odd
bachelor in the neighbourhood who'd be glad of a lift! A presentable,
flirtable creature to make up the four!"

The youthful parlour-maid jerked at the sound of that second adjective,
and scurried from the room, soup plates in hand, leaving Katrine to
whisper hasty reprisals.