Borrowdean was ushered into a long, low drawing-room, with open windows
leading out on to a trim lawn. Beyond was a walled garden bordering the
churchyard.

Mrs. Handsell came back almost immediately. Borrowdean, turning his head
as she entered, found himself studying her with a new curiosity. Yes, she
was a beautiful woman. She had lost nothing. Her complexion--a little
tanned, perhaps--was as fresh and soft as a girl's, her smile as
delightfully full of humour as ever. Not a speck of grey in her black
hair, not a shadow of embarrassment. A wonderful woman!

"The one thing which we have no time to do is to stand and look at one
another," she declared. "However, since you have tried to stare me out of
countenance, what do you find?"

"I find you unchanged," he answered, gravely.

"Naturally! I have found a panacea for all the woes of life. Now what do
you want down here?"

"Mannering!"

"Of course. But you won't get him. He declares that he has finished with
politics, and I never knew a man so thoroughly in earnest."

Borrowdean smiled.

"No man has ever finished with politics!"

"A platitude," she declared. "As for Mannering, well, for the first few