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Updated: June 26, 2025
She found biscuits, and was still munching, when in the open doorway she saw Lord Dennis, a pistol in one hand and a lighted candle in the other. With his carved features and white beard above an old blue dressing-gown, he looked impressive, having at the moment a distinct resemblance to Lady Casterley, as though danger had armoured him in steel.
Without wasting a moment Lady Casterley leaned forward and addressed the bull: "You awful brute!" she said; "I will have you well flogged." Gently pawing the ground, the bull snuffled. "Are you any the worse, child?" "Not a scrap," said Barbara's serene, still breathless voice. Lady Casterley put up her hands, and took the girl's face between them. "What legs you have!" she said. "Give me a kiss!"
Beauty, with its queer touching power of freeing the spirit from all barriers and thoughts of self, sweetened the maid's eyes, and kept her standing, holding her breath. For Barbara asleep was a symbol of that Golden Age in which she so desperately believed. She opened her eyes, and seeing the maid, said: "Is it eight o'clock, Stacey?" "No, but Lady Casterley wants you to walk with her."
Tucking her little thin sharp hand under his arm, she said quietly: "My dear, don't brood over it. That will never do." But Miltoun removed her hand gently, and laid it back on the dust rug, nor did he answer, or show other sign of having heard. And Lady Casterley, deeply wounded, pressed her faded lips together, and said sharply: "Slower, please, Frith!"
"I suppose you think," she said, "that we were not chased by a bull." "I am sure you were." "Indeed! Ah! But I've something else to talk to you about." Mrs. Noel's face quivered back, as a flower might when it was going to be plucked; and again Lady Casterley put her handkerchief to her lips. This time she rubbed them hard. There was nothing to come off; to do so, therefore, was a satisfaction.
Beneath this canopy of cloud a small phalanx of dusty, dishevelled-looking men and women were drawn up in the road, guarding, and encouraging with cheers, a tall, black-coated orator. Before and behind this phalanx, a little mob of men and boys kept up an accompaniment of groans and jeering. Lady Casterley and her 'major-domo' stood six paces inside the scrolled iron gates, and watched.
And, as if that little incident had happened to three other people, they again stood silently looking through the window. Then Lady Casterley turned to Barbara. "Well, have you realized the mischief that you've done?" "Ann!" murmured Lord Dennis. "Yes, yes; she is your favourite, but that won't save her.
The speaker's voice rose in shrill protest against the exploitation of 'the people'; it sank in ironical comment on Christianity; it demanded passionately to be free from the continuous burden of 'this insensate militarist taxation'; it threatened that the people would take things info their own hands. Lady Casterley turned her head: "He is talking nonsense, Clifton. It is going to rain.
Barbara returning from her visit to Courtier's deserted rooms, was met at Valleys House with the message: Would she please go at once to Lady Casterley? When, in obedience, she reached Ravensham, she found her grandmother and Lord-Dennis in the white room. They were standing by one of the tall windows, apparently contemplating the view.
On the tables were no flowers, save five lilies in an old silver chalice; and on the wall over the great sideboard a portrait of the late Lord Casterley. She spoke: "I hope Miltoun is taking his own line?" "That's the trouble. He suffers from swollen principles only wish he could keep them out of his speeches." "Let him be; and get him away from that woman as soon as his election's over.
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