"Wilbraham enlightened me, as we smoked together after lunch, walking up and down a broad garden path under the April sunshine. 'What do you think of Mrs. Brent?' he asked me, with a side-long whimsical glance that is very characteristic of the man.
"I was a little put out by the suddenness of the question, but took advantage of it to be equally direct and to ask my question. 'Is there anything to make her unhappy?'
"He laughed at that. 'I see you have your eyes open,' he said. 'I suppose it's the novelist's trick. Any questions to ask about the rest of us?'
"'You haven't answered my first one yet,' I replied, and he laughed again, and said: 'Did you ever hear of Lottie Lansdowne?'
"The name seemed vaguely familiar to me, but he said, without waiting for my reply: 'I don't suppose you ever did, but if I were you I should tell Mrs. Brent on the first opportunity that when you were young and going the round of the theatres that was the one name in the bill you never could resist.'
"'I suppose you mean that Mrs. Brent was once on the stage and that was her name,' I said. 'But I don't remember her all the same.'
"'No, I don't suppose you would,' he said again. 'As a matter of fact the poor little thing never got beyond the smallest parts, and I doubt if she ever would have done. But Brent fell in love with her, and married her, and since then she has never had a chance of trying. That's what's the matter with her, and I'm afraid it can't be helped. She's pretty, isn't she?'
"'Yes,' I said, as he seemed to expect it of me, but she hadn't struck me as being particularly pretty, though she might have been as a young girl. 'You mean that she doesn't like the quiet life down here?'
"'Yes, that's what I mean,' he said. 'I'm sorry for the poor little soul. She's like a child. Vain, I dare say, but not an ounce of harm in her. I'm telling you this because you'd be bound to find it out for yourself in any case. She'll probably tell you about her early triumphs herself when you know her better. The thing to do is to keep her pleased with herself as much as possible. There's not much to amuse her here. We never see anybody. It suits me all right, and her ladyship; and Harry is happy enough at present, with what he finds to do outside, and what he has to do in. But she's different. There's nothing much for her. She reads a lot of trashy novels----' Here he broke off suddenly and roared with laughter, twisting his body about, and behaving in a curious uncontrolled manner till he'd had his laugh out. Then he said: 'I'm not going to hide from you that I _have_ tried to read one of yours, and my opinion is that it's slush, but quite harmless slush, which perhaps makes it worse. However, _she_ likes them; so I dare say you'll find something in common with her, and it will be all to the good your coming here. That's why I've told you about her. You'll be able to help.'