Miss Truda, never you make a face--You might grow so!" Never since that
day had Gertrude Winlow, an Honourable in her own right and in that of
her husband, made a face, not even, it is believed, when her son was
born. And then to find on the other side of Mr. Pendyce that puzzling
Mrs. Bellew with the green-grey eyes, at which the best people of her
own sex looked with instinctive disapproval! A woman in her position
should avoid anything conspicuous, and Nature had given her a
too-striking appearance. People said that when, the year before last,
she had separated from Captain Bellew, and left the Firs, it was simply
because they were tired of one another. They said, too, that it looked
as if she were encouraging the attentions of George, Mr. Pendyce's
eldest son.

Lady Maiden had remarked to Mrs. Winlow in the drawing-room before
dinner:

"What is it about that Mrs. Bellew? I never liked her. A woman situated
as she is ought to be more careful. I don't understand her being asked
here at all, with her husband still at the Firs, only just over the way.
Besides, she's very hard up. She doesn't even attempt to disguise it. I
call her almost an adventuress."

Mrs. Winlow had answered:

"But she's some sort of cousin to Mrs. Pendyce. The Pendyces are related
to everybody! It's so boring. One never knows---"

Lady Maiden replied:

"Did you know her when she was living down here? I dislike those