girl is simply terrible."

"H'm! I think just the reverse, you know."

"They'll come to awful grief if they're not brought up sharp. They ought
to be sent to the colonies to learn reality."

Malloring nodded.

"Come out, Mildred, and see how they're getting on with the new vinery."
And they went out together through the French window.

The vinery was of their own designing, and of extraordinary interest. In
contemplation of its lofty glass and aluminium-cased pipes the feeling
of soreness left her. It was very pleasant, standing with Gerald,
looking at what they had planned together; there was a soothing sense
of reality about that visit, after the morning's happening, with its
disappointment, its reminder of immorality and discontent, and of
folk ungrateful for what was done for their good. And, squeezing her
husband's arm, she murmured:

"It's really exactly what we thought it would be, Gerald!"


CHAPTER XIII


About five o'clock of that same afternoon, Gerald Malloring went to see
Tod. An open-air man himself, who often deplored the long hours he was
compelled to spend in the special atmosphere of the House of Commons,