nd gardens, and was scorned by Nana in consequence.

When her mother was at home Mary was accustomed to wander about
Redmarley unchallenged and unaccompanied save by the faithful Parker.
But Mr Ffolliot took his duties as chaperon most seriously and expected
that Mary should never stir beyond the gardens unless accompanied by
Miss Glover. He even seemed suspicious as to her most innocent
expeditions, and every morning at breakfast demanded a minute
time-table planning her day.

Mary didn't mind this. It was easy enough to say that after she had
interviewed the cook (there was no housekeeper now at Redmarley) she
would practise, or read French with Miss Glover; or go into Marlehouse
accompanied by Miss Glover for a music lesson; or drive with Miss
Glover and the children to Marlehouse to do the weekly shopping; or go
with Miss Glover to the tailor to be fitted for a coat and skirt. All
that was easy enough to reel off in answer to the Squire's inquiries.
It was the afternoons that were difficult. She had been used to go
into the village and visit her friends, Willets, Miss Gallup, the
laundry-maid's mother, everybody there in fact, and now this seemed to
be forbidden her unless Miss Glover went too, which spoiled everything.

Sometimes she walked with the Squire and tried to feel an intelligent
interest in Ercole Ferrarese, whose work Mr Ffolliot greatly admired.
In fact he was just then engaged on a somewhat lengthy monograph
concerning both the man and his work.

Mary, in the hope of making herself a more congenial companion to her
father, even went as far as to look up "Ercole" in Vasari's _Lives_.
But Vasari was not particularly copious in details as to Ercole
Ferrarese, and the particulars he did give which impressed Mary were
just those most calculated to annoy her father. As, for instance, that
"Ercole had an inordinate love of wine and was frequently intoxicated,
in so much that his life was shortened by this habit."

The difficulties that may arise from such an inordinate affection had
been brought home to her quite recently, and in one of their walks
together after a somewhat prolonged silence she remarked to her father--

"It was a pity that poor Ercole drank so much, wasn't it?"

"Why seize upon a trifling matter of that sort when we are considering
the man's work?" Mr Ffolliot asked angrily. "For heaven's sake, do not
grow into one of those people who only perceive the obvious; whose only
knowle