Miranda's
enthusiasms.

"It's a pity we can't get the evening papers," he said gloomily. "I
should dearly like to see the London forecasts for to-morrow."

"I brought some evening papers down with me," said Hillyard, and "Did
you?" cried Sir Chichester, and his eyes flashed with interest. But
Harold Jupp was already out of the room. He came back from the hall with
a bundle of newspapers in his hands, pink and white and yellow and
green. He carried them all relentlessly past Sir Chichester to the table
in the window. Sir Chichester to a newspaper, was a needle to a magnet;
and while Dennis Brown read out the selections for the morrow's races of
"The Man of Iron" in the _Evening Patriot_, and "Hitchy Koo" in _The
Lamppost_, Sir Chichester edged nearer and nearer.

Lady Splay invited Hillyard to play croquet with her in the garden; and
half-way through the game Hillyard approached the question which
troubled him.

"I was wondering whether I should meet Mrs. Croyle here."

Millicent Splay drove her ball before she answered, and missed her hoop.

"What a bore!" she cried. "Now I shall have to come back again. I didn't
know that you had met Stella."

"I met her only once. I liked her."

Millie Splay nodded.

"I am glad. There's always a room here for Stella. I told her so
immediately after I met her, and she took me at my word, as I meant her
to do. But she avoids Goodwood week and festivals generally, and she is
wise. For though I would take her anywhere myself, you know what long
memories people have for other people's sins. There might be
humiliations."

"I understand that," said Hillyard, and he added, "I gathered from Mrs.
Croyle that you had remained a very staunch friend."

Millie Splay shrugged her shoulders.

"I am a middle-aged woman with a middle-aged woman's comprehension.
There are heaps of things I loathe more and more each day, meanness, for
instance, and an evil tongue. But, for the other sins, more and more I
see the case for compassion. Stella was hungry of heart, and she let the
hunger take her. She had her blind, wild hour or two; she was a fool;
she was--well, everything the moralists choose to call her. But she has
been paying for her hour ever since, and will go on paying. Now, if I
can only hit your yellow ball from here, I shall have rather a good game
on."

Lady Splay succeeded and, carrying the four croquet balls with her, went
round the rest of the hoops and pegged out.

"I must