The Castle stood on the last spur of a range of hills, and there was an
abrupt descent between it and the next rounded hill-top. Covered with
trees, the sharp little valley was full of shadow and mystery; and then
beyond the great billowy tree-tops rose and fell for miles, until the
brilliant early green of the larches and the dark hues of the many
leafless branches, already ruddy with buds, became blue and at length
purple in the distance.

This joy and glory of her mother earth nobody could grudge Molly,
surely? But the very beauty of it all made her more weak; and tears rose
in her eyes as she looked at the healing green.

"I am tired," she thought; "and, after all, what harm can it do me to
meet Lady Rose Bright? And if Sir Edmund Grosse was annoyed to see me
here, what does it matter?"

Presently Lady Groombridge and her admiring guest came back to where
Molly was standing. In the excitement of arrival and of meeting Lady
Rose, and the little shock of Sir Edmund's greeting, Molly had hardly
taken stock of the mistress of the Castle. Lady Groombridge was verging
on old age, but ruddy and vigorous. She wore short skirts and thick
boots, and tapped the gravel noisily with her stick. She had almost
forgotten that she had ever been young and a beauty, and her
conversation was usually in the tone of a harassed housekeeper, only
that the range of subjects that worried her extended beyond servants and
linen and jam into politics and the Church and the souls of men within a
certain number of miles of Groombridge Castle.

She stood talking between Molly and Mrs. Delaport Green in a voice of