"He is too dark a horse for my
fancy."
"I expect Mr. Tallente will be ready with his programme when the time
comes," she observed. "He is a people's man, of course, and his
proposals will sound pretty terrible to a good many of the old school.
Still, something of the sort has to come."
The butler brought in the postbag while they talked. Segerson, as he
rose to depart, glanced with curiosity at half a dozen orange-coloured
wrappers which were among the rest of the letters.
"Fancy your subscribing to a press-cutting agency, Lady Jane!" he
exclaimed. "You haven't been writing a novel under a pseudonym, have
you?"
She laughed as she gathered up her correspondence in her hand.
"Don't pry into my secrets," she enjoined. "We may meet in Barnstaple
to-morrow. If the weather clears, I want to go in and see those cattle
for myself."
The young man took his reluctant departure. Jane crossed the hall,
entered her own little sanctum, drew the lamp to the edge of the table
and sank into her easy-chair with a little sigh of relief. All the rest
of her correspondence she threw to one side.
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