Arnold Wayne for herself, she was now trying hard to
provide him with a wife of her own choosing.

But there was one person who was more than a match for Miss Danforth,
and that was Mrs. Lennard. The old lady was not ignorant of her devices;
her own knowledge of the world was far greater than Mary could ever hope
to attain. The rector's wife had been a society belle in her youth, and
had not forgotten the use of her weapons. Mary was discomfited, and Mrs.
Verdon and Mrs. Tell were immensely amused when Mrs. Lennard proved
herself mistress of the situation.

The drawing-room had the look of a room that is seldom inhabited; the
keys of the piano were stiff through lack of use. It was so warm that
the windows (which were modern in this part of the house) had been
widely opened, and the scent of flowers drifted in from the terrace.
Arnold, entering with the other men, detected Elsie sitting in the shade
of a lace curtain and looking out into the golden moonlight.

He was at her side in a moment. Francis Ryan, who had searched for her
in a wrong direction, saw that he had lost his chance, and went over to
talk to Mrs. Verdon.

"Come out and see how the streams glisten in the moonlight," said Arnold
in a quiet voice. And Elsie consented willingly; she was tired of the
formal room and the uninteresting talk, and the breath of the night was
sweet.

The ground sloped gently down from the terrace, and beyond the Court
gardens were the low-lying meadows and shining watercourses. The glamour
of the moonshine was over all; it was like a landscape seen in a dream.

"I must see more of you next week," said Arnold, looking down at the
delicate face which was spiritualised by the mysterious light. "You will
come to church to-morrow. There will be a walk of three-quarters of a
mile; the footpath runs through the fields."

"It will be delightful to go to a country church again," Elsie answered.

"I'm glad to return to the old rural scenes myself," Arnold confessed.
"By the way, don't turn poor Ryan's head, Miss Kilner, unless you want
to break some one's heart."

"Whose heart?"

Elsie looked up at him with grave, questioning eyes.

"My cousin Lily's. It's quite an old affair."

"Oh, yes, we'll all go out on the terrace. No, Mrs. Tell, we shan't take
cold. It can't be done to-night."

Mary Danforth was speaking; her high-pitched voice grated unpleasantly
on Elsie's ears. She stepped out over the low window-sill, followed by