Little Mrs. Craver was greatly excited over the discovery that Lady Wyke was none other than flighty Laura Bright, the sister of the humble washerwoman. It was not surprising that the Rector's wife had not recognised her, as the brilliant woman of the world was very different from the pretty, discontented, and unformed girl who had gone away from Hedgerton some twenty and more years previous. Indeed, Mrs. Mellin herself confessed that she would never have recognised her sister, had not that sister called upon her to proclaim her identity. Evidently Lady Wyke had no false pride, for she calmly stated who she was, and talked over family affairs with Mrs. Mellin. Old James Bright, who had been the father of the two women, was dead, and so was the mother. The washerwoman's husband had passed away, leaving her with one son, and Lady Wyke was a widow, with no child at all. It was for this reason that she had called on Mrs. Mellin.

"You could have knocked me down with a feather, ma'am, when that grand lady come along, saying as she was my very own sister Laura. Not a bit of pride about her, ma'am, for she sat down and took tea, just as if she was no one in pertic'ler."

"It does her credit," said Mrs. Craver, approvingly. "I think the better of Lady Wyke for not being ashamed of her humble origin. She has greatly improved from the flighty girl she was."

"Clever, ma'am," interposed Mrs. Mellin, proudly, "never flighty."

"Pooh, pooh! She was a very feather, Mrs. Mellin. But we won't discuss her weaknesses. I suppose she called in order to help you?"

Mrs. Mellin rubbed her nose. "She did and she didn't, ma'am. So far as I'm concerned, she said she didn't mind giving me a pound or so when wanted. But she really called about Neddy."

"Oh, indeed. And what about Neddy?"

"Laura ses," Pursued Mrs. Mellin, wiping her mouth with a corner of her well-known tartan shawl, "as Neddy is the only one of our family left, and is as bewtiful as a angel and 'ave a voice like a bird. A skylark she called 'im, and wants to git 'im singing in London."

"Ridiculous!" cried the Rector's wife, vigorously. "Let her give him a good education and apprentice him to some trade."

"So I ses, ma'am, me bein' 'umble and Neddy my boy. But bless you, ma'am, Laura wouldn't 'ear of it, sayin' as 'is voice was wonnerful, and the gift of 'Eaven, which it 'ud be a shame not to 'ave 'eard. Had a long tork with 'her I did, ma'am, and Laura ses, as she was on the music-'all stage 'erself, and didn't see no-'arm in it, nohow. So she ses as she's goin' to send Neddy to London to appear as the Skylark at the Tit-Bits Music 'All."

"Ridiculous! Ridiculous!" said Mrs. Craver, again. "A choir-boy and a music-hall. The two things don't go together."

"They won't, ma'am." retorted Mrs. Mellin, rather defiantly. "Neddy 'ull leave the choir when he becomes the Tit-Bits Skylark. Laura's goin' to 'ave 'is voice trained with a pal of 'er's as sings 'isself, and with 'im Neddy can stay, Laura payin' 'is board and lodgin'. Week-ends he can come down 'ere for me to 'ave a look at 'im and look arter 'is washing, never trustin' them London laundresses as I don't no'ow. So there you are, ma'am. Fortune hev come to me and Neddy at larst."

"I don't approve of it, Mrs. Mellin, and the Rector won't approve of it either, you may be sure. I'll speak to him and to Lady Wyke myself."

Mrs. Craver did so, but gained small satisfaction, for Lady Wyke firmly held to her opinion and refused to listen to the little woman's entreaties. As to the Rector, he also ventured on a mild remonstrance, but Neddy's aunt quickly routed him. She declared that it was better for Neddy to earn his bread by means of his great gift than to remain in Hedgerton, loafing about and consorting with bad boys. In the end Lady Wyke got her own way, as such a hard and determined woman would, so Neddy arrayed in a new suit of clothes, was packed off to London forthwith. He was more than willing to go, as he looked forward to a life of excitement, while his mother was willing that he should try his luck, as she hoped that his voice would win sufficient money for him to support her in her old age. And as the two sisters were thus agreed, neither Mrs. Craver nor the Rector could do anything, although they highly disapproved of the step taken. But they fought desperately that Neddy should learn a trade, and the battle was prolonged for quite a month. At the end of that exciting time, the young scamp went to London, and the fight ended in the triumph of his mother and aunt. Mrs. Craver was much grieved over her defeat.

During the month things went on very smoothly. Edwin came and went, attended to his motor work, and between times essayed flying with more or less success.

Lady Wyke never came near the rectory during the four weeks, rather to Miss Lemby's surprise. Claudia quite expected that after the visit paid to the flat and the hint given that Lady Wyke would seek her out again and still pursue her object, which was to take possession of young Craver. But Sir Hector's widow remained ostentatiously away, and Claudia saw her only in church and occasionally on the esplanade. Short as was the time which had elapsed since her husband's death, the widow was already changing her mourning for dresses less aggressively dismal. From black her gowns turned into violet, and on some days she appeared in grey, always looking smart and fashionable, well-turned-out, and remarkably young.

With keen feminine instinct, Claudia guessed that Lady Wyke was on the warpath, and still cherished a desire to marry Edwin. Seeing that she had only met him once or twice, and that she knew he was engaged to Claudia, it seemed ridiculous that she should hope to win him. Yet her coming down to Hedgerton, her amelioration of mourning-frocks, and her frequent attendance at church to win over Edwin's parents, all suggested to Miss Lemby's clever and rather jealous nature that the widow had not got over her infatuation. Those superior residents of Hedgerton, who knew something of the outside world, invariably spoke of her as "The Merry Widow." Claudia frankly hated her.

This being the case, it was unpleasant that she should meet with the schemer unexpectedly and be forced to have a conversation.

It was now March and there crept into the keen air a breath of spring. The sky was intensely blue, the chestnut buds were glummy, and the wayside hedges were greening over with tiny leaves. As the village, with its ancient fish-like smells, was not inviting, the girl often walked along the verge of the cliffs beyond the Rectory, and watched the murmuring waves ebbing and flowing on the sandy beach below. On the day she met Lady Wyke the sunshine was unusually warm and brilliant, and the azure of the sky, the deep blue of the sea, the reddish stretch of cliffs, and the delicate, green budding of the trees made up an uncommonly pretty picture. Claudia walked along for quite a mile and then sat down to rest near a coastguard station. The winds brought colour to her cheeks, sunshine light to her eyes, and the girl looked extremely young and extremely pretty.

"A penny for your thoughts, Miss Lemby," said Lady Wyke, in her shrill, sharp, and unpleasant voice............