"They are better than you'd think, though, and she has only brought three horses."
"Why didn't you tell us you were springing this strange lady upon us?" asked the Squire, as a beginning out of all the questions he wanted to ask.
"I haven't been home for a month," said Dick, "and I'm not much of a correspondent."
"You didn't say anything about it last night, and you didn't say you were going over to see her this afternoon." The Squire's uneasiness was beginning to take shape, and Dick realised with annoyance that he had given it something to feed on.
"I'm sorry," he said. "But we were talking about other things. The poor lady had a brute of a husband—I expect you knew him, didn't you?"
"Oh yes, I knew him. A pretty sort of rascal he was too."
"I've always heard so, though I never met him. He behaved like a swine to her, at any rate, and she's a very charming woman. I think you'll like her, father. I want to ask the mater to go over and see her as soon as she can. She doesn't know any one hereabouts, and it's a bit lonely for her."
He could not keep the note of appeal, rarely heard from him, out of his voice, but it escaped the Squire, who only saw himself at issue with his eldest son—a position he exceedingly disliked.
"Oh, my dear boy!" he said. "A woman that blackguard George Dubec picked up off the music-hall stage! You can't be serious."
"That's not true," said Dick sharply. "Who said she was on the music-hall stage?"