She left the parlour without giving Mrs. Scorrier time to answer her, but although she knew that Powick must already be awaiting her in the estate-room she did not join him there for some twenty minutes. She was dismayed to find herself so much shaken by her anger: before she could face the bailiff without betraying to him her agitation a period of quiet reflection was necessary. This enabled her to regain command over herself; but in no way helped her to regard the immediate future with anything but foreboding. She blamed herself for having allowed Mrs. Scorrier to goad her into retort, yet felt that sooner or later she must have been forced into taking a stand against a woman whose passion for mastery must, if unchecked, set the whole household by the ears. She entertained no hope that Mrs. Scorrier would not bear malice: she had seen implacable enmity in that lady’s eyes, and knew that she would lose no opportunity now to hurt and to annoy.

It was past noon when she left Powick. A morning spent in the company of that dour and phlegmatic Yorkshireman did more to restore the balance of her mind than any amount of reflection, be it never so calm; and the study of accounts exercised over her much the same sobering effect as did the study of Plato over Aubrey.

There was no sign of Charlotte or her mother in the main part of the house, but Ribble, coming into the hall just as Venetia was about to go out into the garden, disclosed that both these ladies were inspecting the kitchen-wing, under the guidance of Mrs. Gurnard,. He gave Venetia a sealed billet, which the undergroom sent over to Ebbersley earlier in the day had brought back with him; and waited while Venetia read its message. It was short, a mere acknowledgement of her own letter, but written in affectionate terms. Lady Denny would not keep the messenger waiting, but begged Venetia to come to Ebbersley as soon as might be. She added in a postscript that she was busy packing for Oswald, who was leaving Ebbersley on the following day, to visit his uncle, in Rutlandshire.

Venetia looked up, and met Ribble’s eyes, fixed anxiously on her countenance. For a moment she did not speak, but presently she said ruefully: “I know, Ribble, I know! We are in the suds—but we shall come about!”

“I trust so, miss,” he said, with a deep sigh.

She smiled at him. “Have you fallen under her displeasure? So have I, I promise you!”

“Yes, miss—as I ventured to say to Mrs. Gurnard. If she had heard the things I have heard she would know where the blow has fallen hardest. If I may say so, it was as much as I could do, last night, to keep from boiling over! Oh, Miss Venetia, what can have come over Sir Conway? Undershaw won’t ever be the same again!”

“Yes, it will, Ribble: indeed it will!” she said. “Only wait until Conway comes home! To you I needn’t scruple to own that we are in bad loaf, and Mrs. Scorrier a detestable woman, but I believe—oh, I am certain!—that you will very soon grow to be as fond of Lady Lanyon as—as you are of me!”

“No, miss, that couldn’t be. Things will be very different at Undershaw, and I fancy her ladyship will be wishful to make changes. Very understandable, I’m sure. I’m not as young as I was, and I don’t deny it, and if her ladyship feels that—”

She interrupted quickly: “She does not! Yes, I know exactly what you are about to tell me, and a great goose you are! How can you suppose that my brother could ever wish for another butler in place of our dear, kind Ribble?”

“Thank you, miss: you’re very good!” he said, a little tremulously. “But we were hoping, Mrs. Gurnard and I, that if you are meaning to set up your own establishment, with Master Aubrey, like you always said you would, you might like us to go with you, which we would be very pleased to do.”

She was a good deal moved, but she said in a rallying tone: “Oh, no, no! How could they manage at Undershaw without you? How could I be so shocking as to steal you from my brother? I won’t think of such a thing! And however happyI might be in such circumstances, you would be wretched, away from Undershaw. I know that, and you know it too.”

“Yes, miss, and indeed I never thought to leave it, nor Mrs. Gurnard neither, but we don’t feel we could stay, not with Mrs. Scorrier. Nor we don’t feel that—Well, miss, to speak plainly to you, if you’ll pardon the liberty, anyone can see which way the wind’s blowing, and we wouldn’t wish to be turned off with a Scarborough warning, not at our time of life, and that’s what might happen, before ever Sir Conway shows his front, as he would say. I’m too old to learn new ways, and when it comes to being told I’m not to take orders from Master Aubrey without her ladyship agrees to it—well, miss, one of these days I won’t be able to keep the words from my tongue, and that, I know well, is just what that Mrs. Scorrier hopes for, so that she can work on her ladyship to send me packing!”

“Let her!” said Venetia, her eyes kindling. “I can assure you that she would catch cold at that! I don’t think Lady Lanyon could be prevailed upon to do it, and if she did I should be obliged to tell her that it is out of her power to dismiss you. Until Sir Conway comes home I shall continue as mistress here; and when he does come—I give Mrs. Scorrier one week before he sends her packing! Only be patient. Ribble!”

He began to look more cheerful, and when Venetia very improperly confided to him that Conway had already sent Mrs. Scorrier packing from Cambray he was wonderfully heartened, and went off chuckling to himself. He would certainly pass this titbit of news on to Mrs. Gurnard, and possibly to Nurse, but as it was unlikely that any of the younger servants would be deemed worthy to be taken into the confidence of their betters Venetia was untroubled by any qualm of conscience.

She went out into the garden, and was engaged in snipping the dead heads off a few late-flowering plants when she saw her sister-in-law come out of the house, and stand hesitating, looking about her in a timid way, as though she feared to be pounced on suddenly by some ogre. She waved to her, and, as Charlotte started towards her, strolled to meet her. Charlotte was wrapped in a shawl, and looked pale, and rather hagged. She said, with her nervous smile: “Oh, good-morning, Miss Lanyon!—Venetia, I mean! I thought I might take a turn in the garden, or—or perhaps just sit for awhile in the sun. I have the headache a little, and it was so hot in the kitchen, and I don’t know how to cook, or—or any recipes, so I slipped away. Mama—Mama is telling your cook the French way of making veal into a ragout.”

“How very wise you were to slip away!” said Venetia, laughing. “I can readily imagine the scene, and only hope the meat-axe may not be within reach!”

“Mama thinks she is a very good cook!” Charlotte said quickly. “She complimented her on her pastry, and—and—”

“My dear, I was only funning! Have you been conducted all over the house, and are you quite exhausted?”

“Oh, no!” Charlotte replied, sinking rather limply on to a rustic seat. “That is—it is so very large, and rambling, and I am so ignorant about managing a house! I know Mrs. Gurnard despised me dreadfully—though she was very civil! Oh, Miss— Oh, Venetia, I know it is silly to be afraid of a housekeeper, but I don’t know what to say to her, because I can’t ask her questions, like Mama! I wish Mania had made me learn those things!”

“Do you? Then I can tell you just what you should do!” said Venetia, in a heartening tone. “What’s more, nothing would please Mrs. Gurnard more! One day, when you have an hour to spare, go to Mrs. Gurnard’s room, and tell her just what you have told me. She knows, of course, that you have never managed a house, and she will like you the better for owning it. Ask her if she will teach you! You will find that you are soon on the most comfortable terms with her.”

“Do you think so?” Charlotte said, rather doubtfully. “I would like to learn, but perhaps Mama would not wish me to ask Mrs. Gurnard—”

“Perhaps she would not,” agreed Venetia dryly. “But it is what Conway would wish you to do!”

She left this to sink in. Charlotte sat pondering it, and presently sighed. “Oh, if only Conway were here!” She turned her face away, and after a moment said in a trembling voice: “I never thought, you see, that I should have to come here without him! I don’t mean—of course I like to be at Undershaw—and you have been so very—” Tears choked any further utterance.

“I know exactly what you mean,” Venetia said, taking her hand, and patting it. “It was infamous of Conway to send you home in such a way! But, indeed, Charlotte, we are all very happy to have you, and we shall try to make you happy as well. And Conway will soon be with you again, won’t he?”

“Oh, yes) You are so very good to me! I didn’t mean to complain!” Charlotte said, hastily drying her eyes. “I beg your pardon! It was only not feeling very well, and then having to go with Mama and Mrs. Gurnard— But it is all nonsense! Nurse said— Oh, Venetia, Nurse is very kind, isn’t she?”

“Ah, so you’ve made Nurse’s acquaintance, have you? I am so glad—and that you like her!”

“Yes, indeed, she made me feel so comfortable! She was putting a hot brick in my bed when I went up last night, and she helped me to undress, and made me drink a posset, and told me about Conway, when he was a little boy! It was she who brought up my breakfast-tray, too.”

Thankful that her thoughts had taken a more cheerful direction Venetia encouraged her to continue talking in this strain, and was presently helped by the arrival on the scene of Nurse herself, bringing a cup of hot milk to Charlotte. It was immediately made apparent to Venetia that Nurse had decided to admit Charlotte into the ranks of her charges, for she began scolding almost before she came within tongue-shot, demanding to know what was this that she had heard about her ladyship’s not fancying her nuncheon? To Charlotte’s faint excuse that she was not hungry she replied severely: “Never you mind whether you’re hungry, my lady! You’ve two to feed now, and you’ll just do what Nurse says, and no nonsense! Now, you drink this nice cup of milk!” As she put it into Charlotte’s hand she looked sharply at her, and said: “Who’s been upsetting you, my lady? Not Miss Venetia, I know!”

“Oh, no, no! I was silly—it’s nothing!”

“She misses Conway,” Venetia explained.

“To be sure she does, but crying won’t bring him home any the sooner,” said Nurse briskly. “There, now, my lady, drink up your milk, and you’ll be better! What you want to do is to go with Miss Venetia for a walk in the park, instead of moping here. You’ll have your Mama coming to find you before you know where you are, and you’ve had enough worriting for one day. You take her, Miss Venetia, but not too far, mind!”

“I will, and gladly,” Venetia said, getting up. “Would you care for it, Charlotte?”

“Yes, please—only will it not be damp? Mama said—”

“Now, what did I tell you, my lady?” said Nurse. “There’s no need for you to cosset yourself. It’s what I don’t hold with, and never have, and so I shall tell your Mama.”

“Oh, Nurse, pray—!”gasped Charlotte imploringly.

“Don’t you worry your pretty head, my lady!” advised Nurse, with a grim little laugh. “There, you go along with Miss Venetia, and no more nonsense!”

“I’ll fetch the dogs: they need a run,” said Venetia, unaware that she was striking dismay into Charlotte’s heart.

“You won’t do that, miss, for Master Aubrey took them with him,” said Nurse, to Charlotte’s great relief. “Yes, you may well stare! Gone off riding, he has, and not a bit of heed would he pay to me, except to say that if he didn’t try whether it hurt him he wouldn’t ever know. The next thing we know we shall have him abed again, for he that hath a froward heart findeth no good, Miss Venetia, as I’ve told him often and often!”

“When Nurse becomes Biblical, it is a sign that she is much moved!” Venetia said, as she and Charlotte crossed the lawn together. “Aubrey had an accident a few weeks ago, and we are afraid his weak leg may not yet be fit for riding. However, I expect he won’t persist, if he finds it pains him, and in any event it doesn’t do to try to coddle him: he doesn’t like to have his lameness mentioned, you see.”

She led Charlotte into the park, chatting of such commonplaces as she hoped might set the girl more at her ease. Charlotte had already asked her if she was very bookish, and she had gathered that the epithet stood in her mind for all that was most alarming. She could not help thinking, as she recounted an anecdote of her childhood, that Charlotte would have little reason, after this session, for believing her to be very clever.