d as a suppressed giggle, Mrs. Brown-Smith rose, then turning,
'Post the page to me, Mr. Merton,' she said. Merton bowed, and, folding
up the page of the time-table, he consigned it to his cigarette case.

* * * * * *

Mrs. Malory received, with a blending of emotions, the invitation to the
party of Mrs. Brown-Smith. The social popularity and the wealth of the
hostess made such invitations acceptable. But the wealth arose from
trade, in soap, not in coal, and coal (like the colza bean) is 'a product
of the soil,' the result of creative forces which, in the geological
past, have worked together for the good of landed families. Soap, on the
other hand, is the result of human artifice, and is certainly advertised
with more of emphasis and of ingenuity than of delicacy. But, by her own
line of descent, Mrs. Brown-Smith came from a Scottish house of ancient
standing, historically renowned for its assassins, traitors, and time-
servers. This partly washed out the stain of soap. Again, Mrs. Malory
had heard the name of Mrs. Brown-Smith taken in vain, and that in a
matter nearly affecting her Matilda's happiness. On the other side,
Merton had given the lady a valuable testimonial to character. Moreover,
the Vidame would be at her party, and Mrs. Malory told herself that she
could study the ground. Above all, the girls were so anxious to go: they
seldom had such a chance. Therefore, while the Early Victorian moralist
hesitated, the mother accepted.

They were all glad that they went. Susan, the younger Miss Malory,
enjoyed herself extremely. Matilda danced with the Vidame as often as
her mother approved. The conduct of Mrs. Brown-Smith was correctness
itself. She endeared herself to the girls: invited them to her place in
Perthshire, and warmly congratulated Mrs. Malory on the event approaching
in her family. The eye of maternal suspicion could detect nothing amiss.
Thanks mainly to Mrs. Brown-Smith, the girls found the season an earthly
Paradise: and Mrs. Malory saw much more of the world than she had ever
done before. But she remained vigilant, and on the alert. Before the
end of July she had even conceived the idea of inviting Mrs. Brown-Smith,
fatigued by her toils, to inhale the bracing air of Upwold in the moors.
But she first consulted Merton, who expressed his warm approval.

'It is dangerous, though she has been so kind,' sighed Mrs. Malory. 'I
have observed nothing to justify the talk which I have