"Beautiful, sir!" Mrs. Foulton answered.

"Were you wanting to speak to John, Mr. Stephen? He's about the home meadow somewhere, or in the orchard. I can send a boy for him, or perhaps you'd step out."

"It's you I came to see, Mrs. Foulton," the young man said, "and 'pon my word, I don't like my errand much."

Mrs. Foulton was visibly anxious.

"There's no trouble like, I hope, sir?" she began.

"Oh! it's nothing serious," he declared rea.s.suringly. "To tell you the truth, it's about your lodger."

"About Mr. Macheson, sir!" the woman exclaimed.

"Yes! Do you know how long he was proposing to stay with you?"

"He's just took the rooms for another week, sir," she answered, "and a nicer lodger, or one more quiet and regular in his habits, I never had or wish to have. There's nothing against him, sir--surely?"

"Nothing personal--that I know of," Hurd answered, tapping his boots with his riding-whip. "The fact of it is, he has offended Miss Thorpe-Hatton, and she wants him out of the place."

"Well, I never did!" Mrs. Foulton exclaimed in amazement. "Him offend Miss Thorpe-Hatton! So nice-spoken he is, too. I'm sure I can't imagine his saying a wry word to anybody."

"He has come to Thorpe," Hurd explained, "on an errand of which Miss Thorpe-Hatton disapproves, and she does not wish to have him in the place. She knows that he is staying here, and she wishes you to send him away at once."

Mrs. Foulton's face fell.

"Well, I'm fair sorry to hear this, sir," she declared. "It's only this morning that he spoke for the rooms for another week, and I was glad and willing enough to let them to him. Well I never did! It does sound all anyhow, don't it, sir, to be telling him to pack up and go sudden-like!"

"I will speak to him myself, if you like, Mrs. Foulton," Stephen said.

"Of course, Miss Thorpe-Hatton does not wish you to lose anything, and I am to pay you the rent of the rooms for the time he engaged them. I will do so at once, if you will let me know how much it is."

He thrust his hand into his pocket, but Mrs. Foulton drew back. The corners of her mouth were drawn tightly together.

"Thank you, Mr. Stephen," she said, "I'll obey Miss Thorpe-Hatton's wishes, of course, as in duty bound, but I'll not take any money for the rooms. Thank you all the same."

"Don't be foolish, Mrs. Foulton," the young man said pleasantly. "It will annoy Miss Thorpe-Hatton if she knows you have refused, and you may just as well have the money. Let me see. Shall we say a couple of sovereigns for the week?"

Mrs. Foulton shook her head.

"I'll not take anything, sir, thank you all the same, and if you'd say a word to Mr. Macheson, I'd be much obliged. I'd rather any one spoke to him than me."

Stephen Hurd pocketed the money with a shrug of the shoulders.

"Just as you like, of course, Mrs. Foulton," he said. "I'll go out and speak to the young gentleman at once."

He strolled out and looked over the hedge.

"Mr. Macheson, I believe?" he remarked interrogatively.

Macheson nodded as he rose from his chair.

"And you are Mr. Hurd's son, are you not?" he said pleasantly.

"Wonderful morning, isn't it?"

Young Hurd stepped over the rose bushes. The two men stood side by side, something of a height, only that the better cut of Hurd's clothes showed his figure to greater advantage.

"I'm sorry to say that I've come on rather a disagreeable errand," the agent's son began. "I've been talking to Mrs. Foulton about it."

"Indeed?" Macheson remarked interrogatively.

"The fact is you seem to have rubbed up against our great lady here,"

young Hurd continued. "She's very down on these services you were going to hold, and she wants to see you out of the place."

"I am sorry to hear this," Macheson said--and once more waited.

"It isn't a pleasant task," Stephen continued, liking his errand less as he proceeded; "but I've had to tell Mrs. Foulton that--that, in short, Miss Thorpe-Hatton does not wish her tenants to accept you as a lodger."

"Miss Thorpe-Hatton makes war on a wide scale," Macheson remarked, smiling faintly.

"Well, after all, you see," Hurd explained, "the whole place belongs to her, and there is no particular reason, is there, why she should tolerate any one in it of whom she disapproves?"

"None whatever," Macheson a.s.sented gravely.

"I promised Mrs. Foulton I would speak to you," Stephen continued, stepping backwards. "I'm sure, for her sake, you won't make any trouble.

Good morning!"

Macheson bowed slightly.

"Good morning!" he answered.

Stephen Hurd lingered even then upon the garden path. Somehow he was not satisfied with his interview--with his own position at the end of it. He had an uncomfortable sense of belittlement, of having played a small part in a not altogether worthy game. The indifference of the other's manner nettled him. He tried a parting shaft.

"Mrs. Foulton said something about your having engaged the rooms for another week," he said, turning back. "Of course, if you insist upon staying, it will place the woman in a very awkward position."

Macheson had resumed his seat.

"I should not dream," he said coolly, "of resisting--your mistress'

decree! I shall leave here in half an hour."

Young Hurd walked angrily down the path and slammed the gate. The sense of having been worsted was strong upon him. He recognized his own limitations too accurately not to be aware that he had been in conflict with a stronger personality.

"D---- the fellow!" he muttered, as he cantered down the lane. "I wish he were out of the place."

A genuine wish, and one which betrayed at least a glimmering of a prophetic instinct. In some dim way he seemed to understand, even before the first move on the board, that the coming of Victor Macheson to Thorpe was inimical to himself. He was conscious of his weakness, of a marked inferiority, and the consciousness was galling. The fellow had no right to be a gentleman, he told himself angrily--a gentleman and a missioner!

Macheson re-lit his pipe and called to Mrs. Foulton.

"Mrs. Foulton," he said pleasantly, "I'll have to go! Your great lady doesn't like me on the estate. I dare say she's right."