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Algernon was resolved, however, that he would hint gently that of course no one expected Lord Rutherford to attend in the circumstances, and he would be quite happy to tender his lordship’s excuses to Lady Barrat.
    The squire was surprised, therefore, and Lady Barrat much gratified by Lord Rutherford’s prompt and easy acceptance of the invitation. Neither of them, fortunately for good neighborliness, were able to see inside his lordship’s head where dread foreboding at the prospect of an evening of cloddish insipidity warred with the knowledge that only thus would he be likely to make the acquaintance of the Trelawneys, and only thus could he make discreet inquiries about the Gentlemen. Sir Algernon, returning to his eager wife, pronounced his lordship to be “a decent sort of fellow, not one to stand on ceremony,” and the sherry that had been unearthed from old Mallory’s cellars more than met with the squire’s approval.
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    â€œWhy must you always look such a dowd, Merrie?” Rob examined his sister critically the following evening. “You did not do so when Sir John was alive.”
    â€œI was a giddy young wife in those days, Rob.” Meredith examined her image in the glass above the mantel, tucking a recalcitrant auburn wisp into the severe knot at the nape of her neck. “I am become a sober widow with a host of responsibilities and must dress accordingly.”
    â€œStuff!” Theo looked up from the piece of wood he was whittling. “Rob has the right of it. You do not need to look such a fright. Does she, Hugo?”
    His elder brother, thus appealed to, pondered the question. “It would not be proper for Merrie to dress in bright colors or to show signs of frivolity,” he pronounced. “And I do not think it polite in you to say she looks a dowd and a fright. She dresses with decorum as suits her position.”
    â€œThank you, Hugo.” Meredith smiled at the younger boys who were regarding their brother with unabashed disgust. “I appreciate your concern, my loves, but we must all bow to circumstances on occasion. Anyway,” she chuckled, “you must own that there would be little point in looking ravishing this evening. Who am I to charm? Young Peter Fox-moore? He would be a most eligible parti if I was inclined to cradle-snatching and willing to hunt every day of my life. Or perhaps Sir Giles? Now there’s a thought,” she mused. “He cannot be above sixty, and his temper is only a little affected by the gout.”
    â€œThere is Lord Rutherford,” Rob interrupted sturdily. “He is the right age and I like him.”
    â€œNow when did you meet Lord Rutherford?” Merrie demanded as her little brother flushed guiltily.
    â€œAt Withy Brook,” Rob muttered. “I was tickling trout. And you don’t need to rip up at me, Hugo, because Lord Rutherford didn’t mind a bit and we had a long talk.”
    â€œAbout the Trelawneys, I daresay.” Merrie sighed. “I imagine Lord Rutherford is now intimately acquainted with our family history.”
    â€œHe wanted to know,” Rob protested. His predilection for unselective, unsolicited communication to all and sundry was generally frowned upon, but he was determined to defend himself on this occasion.
    â€œYes, Rob.” Merrie shook her head at him in mock exasperation. “I’m sure he was quite fascinated. However, I think it most unlikely that he will deign to grace what modest entertainment we can offer—far too provincial for the heir to the Duke of Keighley. And, if village talk is anything to go by, he has a worse temper than Matthew Mallory, so the less we see of him the happier we shall be.”
    â€œHe is not at all like Lord Mallory,” Rob persisted. “He is young and handsome and—”
    â€œRich,” Theo interrupted with a grin. “A perfect catch for you, Merrie. Just think, all our