but divorce is always a dirty business, and while the law
is shaped as at present, and the linen washed in public, it will remain
impossible for anyone, guilty or innocent, and even for us lawyers, to
avoid soiling our hands in one way or another. I regret it as much as
you do.

"There is a new man writing verse in the Tertiary, some of it quite
first-rate. You might look at the last number. My blossom this year is
magnificent.

"With kind regards, I am,

"Very sincerely yours,

"EDMUND PARAMOR.

"Gregory Vigil, Esq."

Mrs. Pendyce dropped the letter in her lap, and looked at her cousin.

"He was at Harrow with Horace. I do like him. He is one of the very
nicest men I know."

It was clear that she was trying to gain time.

Gregory began pacing up and down.

"Paramor is a man for whom I have the highest respect. I would trust him
before anyone."

It was clear that he, too, was trying to gain time.

"Oh, mind my daffodils, please!"

Gregory went down on his knees, and raised the bloom that he had trodden
on. He then offered it to Mrs. Pendyce. The action was one to which she
was so unaccustomed that it struck her as slightly ridiculous.

"My dear Grig, you'll get rheumatism, and spoil that nice suit; the
grass comes off so terribly!"

Gregory got up, and looked shamefacedly at his knees.

"The knee is not what it used to be," he said.

Mrs. Pendyce smiled.

"You should keep your knees for Helen Bellow, Grig. I was always five
years older than you."

Gregory rumpled up his hair.

"Kneeling's out of fashion, but I thought in the country you wouldn't
mind!"

"You don't notice things, dear Grig. In the country it's still more out
of fashion. You wouldn't find a woman within thirty miles of here who
would like a man to kneel to her. We've lost the habit. She would think
she was being made fun of. We soon grow out of vanity!"

"In London," said Gregory, "I hear all women intend to be men; but in
the country I thought----"

"In the country, Grig, all women would like to be men, but they don't
dare to try. They trot behind."

As if she had been guilty of thoughts too insightful, Mrs. Pendyce
blushed.

Gregory broke out suddenly:

"I can't bear to think of women like that!"

Again Mrs. Pendyce smiled.

"You see, Grig dear, you are not married."

"I detest the idea that marriage changes our views, Margery; I loathe
it."

"Mind my daffodils!" murmured Mrs. Pendyce.

She was thinking al