eam.) Mrs. Osborn
herself was looking far from amiable. She was ill and nervous and
irritable, and had, in fact, just been crying and wishing that she was
dead, which had given rise to unpleasantness between herself and her
husband, who was not in the mood to feel patient with nerves.

"Here's one from the Marchioness," she remarked slightingly.

"I have had none from the Marquis," sneered Osborn. "He might have
condescended a reply--the cold-blooded beggar!"

Hester was reading her letter. As she turned the first page her
expression changed. As has previously been suggested, the epistolary
methods of Lady Walderhurst were neither brilliant nor literary, and yet
Mrs. Osborn seemed to be pleased by what she read. During the reading of
a line or so she wore an expression of slowly questioning wonder, which,
a little later on, settled into relief.

"I can only say I think it's very decent of them," she ejaculated at
last; "really decent!"

Alec Osborn looked up, still scowlingly.

"I don't see any cheque," he observed. "That would be the most decent
thing. It's the thing we want most, with this damned woman sending in
bills like this for the fourth-rate things we live on, and for her
confounded tenth-rate rooms."

"This is better than cheques. It means our having something we couldn't
hope for cheques enough to pay for. They are offering to lend us a
beautiful old place to live in for the rest of our stay."

"What!" Osborn exclaimed. "Where?"

"Near Palstrey Manor, where they are staying now."

"Near Palstrey! How near?" He had been slouching in his chair and now
sat up and leaned forward on the table. He was eager.

Hester referred to the letter again.

"She doesn't say. It is a sort of antiquity, I gather. It's called The
Kennel Farm. Have you ever been to Palstrey?"

"Not as a guest." He was generally somewhat sardonic when he spoke of
anything connected with Walderhurst. "But once I was in the nearest
county town by chance and rode over. By Jove!" starting a little, "I
wonder if it can be a rum old place I passed and reined in to have a
look at. I hope it is."

"Why?"

"It's near enough to the Manor to be convenient."

"Do you think," hesitating, "that we shall see much of them?"

"We shall if we manage things decently. She likes you, and she's the
kind of woman to be sympathising and make a fuss over another
woman--particularly one who is under the weather and can be
sentimentalised over."

Hes