"Poor girl!" said Mr. Cossey, in a voice that showed his sympathy to
be of a very active order, "and how pluckily she is carrying it off
too--look at her," and he pointed to where Ida was standing, a lawn
tennis bat in her hand and laughingly arranging a "set" of married
/versus/ single.

"Yes, she is a spirited girl," answered Mr. Quest, "and what a
splendid woman she looks, doesn't she? I never saw anybody who was so
perfect a lady--there is nobody to touch her round here, unless," he
added meditatively, "perhaps it is Belle."

"There are different types of beauty," answered Edward Cossey,
flinching.

"Yes, but equally striking in their separate ways. Well, it can't be
helped, but I feel sorry for that poor woman, and the old gentleman
too--ah, there he is."

As he was speaking the Squire, who was walking past with Colonel
Quaritch, with the object of showing him the view from the end of the
moat, suddenly came face to face with Edward Cossey. He at once
stepped forward to greet him, but to his surprise was met by a cold
and most stately bow from Mr. de la Molle, who passed on without
vouchsafing a single word.

"Old idiot!" ejaculated Mr. Quest to himself, "he will put Cossey's
back up and spoil the game."

"Well," said Edward aloud and colouring almost to his eyes. "That old
gentleman knows how to be insolent."