ignity, which
constrained even her imperious mother-in-law to treat her, if not with
kindness, at least with a certain measure of outward respect. Gerald was
a kindly, quiet, scholarly man of thirty-six, who cared nothing whatever
for politics. His books and the welfare of the miners whose labour was
one of the chief sources of the Wychcote riches, amply filled his time.
It may be imagined what a severe thorn her eldest son proved in the
proud flesh of his mother. And as her disappointment in Cecil waxed, her
love for Gerald waned. When she realised that there had sprung up a
quiet affection between him and his young sister-in-law--"the daughter
of Heth" as Lady Wychcote called her to her own circle--she came near to
hating him. That he had not married and showed no inclination to enter
that respectable state so incumbent on the heirs of old titles and large
fortunes, was like a continual draught on the smouldering embers of her
grievance against him for having been born sickly. He had suffered from
childhood with an obscure form of heart-trouble.

Sophy's second year of marriage had brought Bobby and the first serious
symptoms of her husband's malady. She had certainly had scant time for
the study of politics. What little she did know was gleaned from the
glib, rattling talk of Olive Arundel, who, as the wife of an M. P., had
the political patter at her tongue's tip.

So Sophy worked on the little collar for Bobby, and dreamed that she was
sitting behind the grating of the Ladies' Gallery, in the House of
Commons, to hear Cecil's maiden speech. She had just arrived at the
pleasant moment when Mr. Gladstone, reinstated as premier, was
listening, hand at ear, with unmistakable signs of surprised approval to
the eloquence of his new supporter, when Cecil himself destroyed the
vision. He let the heavy German book fall to the floor with a bang and
said:

"What's on for this week in the way of society? Anything promising?"

"We've had lots of invitations, Cecil, but I've refused them, because
you weren't feeling well."

He looked peevish.

"Hang it all! Why didn't you consult me before making such a holocaust
as that? I'm feeling much more fit. Think I'd like to mix with pleasant
fools for a time."

Sophy looked doubtful.

"Don't you think it's too soon, Cecil? You were awfully ill that night."

"Well, I didn't stay ill, did I?"

"N-no. You recovered wonderfully quickly. But it was that strong
medicine that Gayn