With a sweeping movement Diana had risen and walked to the bell-rope. She now pulled it with such vigour that a great peal sounded throughout the house.

She stood perfectly still, a statue of Disdain, tall, beautiful and furious, with compressed lips and head held high. Mr. Bettison broke off and mopped his brow, glaring at her.

Startled Thomas appeared at the door.

“Did you ring, madam?”

“Show Mr. Bettison out,” was the proud answer.

The Squire got up awkwardly.

“I am sure I apologise if I said aught that was untrue,” he mumbled. “I hope you will not take my words amiss⁠—”