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"That is well-known," was the brief reply. "What measure of conscience can a man have," Oliver Hilditch argued blandly, "who pleads for the innocent and guilty alike with the same simulated fervour? Confess, now, Mr. Ledsam there is no object in being hypocritical in this matter have you not often pleaded for the guilty as though you believed them innocent?"
"Ledsam and I," he said, "have promised one another a more complete mutual understanding on Thursday night. I may not be able to part with him quite so soon." Bored and listless, like a tired and drooping lily in the arms of her somewhat athletic partner, Lady Cynthia brought her dance to a somewhat abrupt conclusion. "There is some one in the lounge there to whom I wish to speak," she said.
Ledsam," Shopland admitted, "that it was you who first pointed out Sir Timothy as an interesting study for my profession, but that was a matter of months ago. If you will forgive my saying so, your relations with Sir Timothy have altered since then.
Dodsley that is my groom's name tells me that he does a great deal more mowing now than he need, simply because they worry him for the work. Gratitude, you see, Mr. Ledsam, sheer gratitude. If you were to provide a dozen alms-houses for your poor dependants, I wonder how many of them would be anxious to mow your lawn.... Come, let me show you your room now."
"You would see them better in the morning," he reminded her, rising with some reluctance to his feet. "Perhaps," she answered, "but I have a fancy to see them now." Sir Timothy looked back at the table. "Margaret," he said, "will you look after Mr. Ledsam for a little time? You will excuse us, Ledsam? We shall not be gone long."
The two men smoked and sipped their coffee and brandy. The woman sat with half-closed eyes. It was obvious that Hilditch was still in the mood for speech. "I will tell you, Mr. Ledsam," he said, "why I am so happy to have you here this evening. In the first place, I desire to tender you once more my thanks for your very brilliant efforts on my behalf.
Oliver Hilditch, standing by, remained speechless. It seemed for a moment as though his self-control were subjected to a severe strain. "I had the good fortune," he interposed, in a low tone, "to be wonderfully defended. Mr. Ledsam here " He glanced around.
Sir Timothy hopes that you slept well, sir, and would like you to sign the visitors' book." Francis signed his name mechanically, and was turning away when Lady Cynthia called to him from the stairs. She was dressed for travelling and followed by a maid, carrying her dressing-case. "Will you take me up to town, Mr. Ledsam?" she asked. "Delighted," he answered.
"I hope Hedges won't forget the maraschino with the melons. Come into my den, Ledsam." He led the way in courtly fashion. He was the ideal host leading a valued guest to his sanctum for a few moments' pleasant conversation. But when they arrived in the little beamed room and the door was closed, his manner changed. He looked searchingly, almost challengingly at Francis.
"But I happened to know otherwise," a still voice remarked from outside. "May I come in, Mr. Ledsam?" Sir Timothy stepped past the servant, who at a sign from Francis disappeared, closing the door behind him. After his first glance at Sir Timothy, Francis' only thought was for Margaret. To his intense relief, she showed no signs whatever of terror, or of any relapse to her former state.
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