It was all very cheerful and very English as they stood talking there,
and the doors beyond the hall showed through their dark frames green
lawns and terraces soaked in evening light. It was all very, very
comfortable.

As she dressed for dinner Rachel had her windows open, so hot was the
night, and she could watch the evening star that shone with a wonderful
brilliance above a dark little wood that crowned a rise beyond the
gardens. She had a maid who was very young indeed; this was her first
place, but she had, during the three months, learnt with great quickness
and had attached herself to her mistress with the most burning devotion.
She was a silent, unusual girl and kept herself apart from the rest of
the servants.

Rachel as she sat before her dressing-table could see in that mirror the
dark reflection of the twilit garden.

"It's a lovely place, Lucy----"

"Yes, Miss Rachel."

"Are you glad to get away from London?"

"It has been hot there these last weeks."

Rachel met in the glass the girl's black eyes. They were searching
Rachel's face.

"Lucy, would you rather live in London or in the country?"

"I don't mind, Miss Rachel." Then after a little pause: "I hope I've
give satisfaction these last weeks?"

"Why, yes, of course."

"Then I hope, miss, that you'll allow me to stay with you whether--in
London or the country."

The colour mounted to Rachel's cheeks.

"I hope there'll be no need for any change," she said.

She found when she came down to the drawing-room that Monty Carfax had
arrived. Monty Carfax was the chief of the young men who were, just at
that time, entertaining London dinner-tables. About half a dozen of
God's creatures, under thirty and perfectly dressed, with faces like
tombstones and the laugh of the peacock, went from house to house in
London and mocked at the world.

They belonged, as the mediaeval jesters belonged, each to his own court,
and Monty Carfax, certainly the cleverest of them, was attached to the
Beaminster Court and served the Duchess by faith, if not by sight.

Rachel hated him and always, when she found herself next to him, wrapped
herself in her old farouche manner and behaved like an awkward
schoolgirl.

She was terribly disappointed at discovering that he was going to take
her into dinner to-night; he knew that she disliked him and felt it a
compliment that a raw creature fresh from the schoolroom should fail to
appreciate him; on this occasion he dev