a
small coterie, in which, to the dismay of her elderly husband, she had
passed most of her early married years, she detested the Army as a
brutal influence on the national life. Her youngest step-son, however,
had insisted on becoming a soldier. She broke with him, and with his
brothers who supported him. Now a childless widow, without ties and
moderately rich, she was free to devote herself to her ideas. In former
days she would have been a religious bigot of the first water; the
bigotry was still there; only the subjects of it were changed.

Lady Niton delighted in attacking her; yet was not without a certain
respect for her. Old sceptic that she was, ideals of any sort imposed
upon her. How people came by them, she herself could never imagine.

On this particular morning, however, Mrs. Fotheringham did not allow
herself as long a wrangle as usual with her old adversary. She went off,
carrying an armful of letters with large enclosures, and Lady Niton
understood that for the rest of the morning she would be as much
absorbed by her correspondence--mostly on public questions--as the
Leader of the Opposition himself, to whom the library was sacredly
given up.

"When that woman takes a dislike," she thought to herself, "it sticks!
She has taken a dislike to the Mallory girl. Well, if Oliver wants her,
let him fight for her. I hope she won't drop into his mouth! Mallory!
Mallory! I wonder where she comes from, and who her people are."

* * * * *

Meanwhile Diana was sitting among her letters, which mainly concerned
the last details of the Beechcote furnishing. She and Mrs. Colwood were
now "Muriel" and "Diana" to each other, and Mrs. Colwood had been
admitted to a practical share in Diana's small anxieties.

Suddenly Diana, who had just opened a hitherto unread letter, exclaimed:

"Oh, but _how_ delightful!"

Mrs. Colwood looked up; Diana's aspect was one of sparkling pleasure and
surprise.

"One of my Barbadoes' cousins is here--in London--actually in
London--and I knew nothing of her coming. She writes to me.--Of course
she must come to Beechcote--she must come at once!"

She sprang up, and went to a writing-table near, to look for a telegraph
form. She wrote a message with eagerness, despatched it, and then
explained as coherently as her evident emotion and excitement
would allow.

"They are my only relations in the world--that I know of--that papa ever
spoke to me about. Ma