"Do you think so? Do you think that she--" Again he paused, with a
nervousness and diffidence usually foreign to him.

"She's only a gel," said her ladyship. Her ladyship was Sussex born,
and talked Sussex when she became excited. "She's only a gel, and gels
have their fancies. I had my own--but bless you, they don't last. She
don't know her own mind."

"He's a good fellow," said Hugh generously.

"A nice lad, but he won't suit me for Marjorie's husband. Hugh, the
gel's in the garden, she is sitting by the lily-pond and believes her
heart is broken, but it isn't! Go and prove it isn't; go now!"

He met her eyes and flushed red. "I'll go and have a talk to Marjorie,"
he said. "You haven't been--too rough with her, have you?"

"Rough! I know how to deal with gels. I told her that I had the command
of her money, her four hundred a year till she was twenty-five, and not
a bob of it should she touch if she married against my wish. Now go and
talk to her--and talk sense--" She paused. "You know what I
mean--sense!"

A very pretty picture, the slender white-clad, drooping figure with its
crown of golden hair made, sitting on the bench beside the lily-pond.
Her hands were clasped, her eyes fixed on the stagnant green water over
which the dragon-flies skimmed.

Coming across the soundless turf, he stood for a moment to look at her.