What the man in the shabby livery had felt, he felt also, and added to this was a sense of the practicalness of the questions she asked and the interest she showed and a way she had of seeming singularly to suggest by the look in her eyes and the tone of her voice that nothing was necessarily without remedy.

When her ladyship walked through the place and looked at things, a pale resignation expressed itself in the very droop of her figure.

When this one walked through the tumbled-down grape-houses, potting-sheds and conservatories, she saw where glass was broken, where benches had fallen and where roofs sagged and leaked.

She inquired about the heating apparatus and asked that she might see it.

She asked about the village and its resources, about labourers and their wages.
"As if," commented Kedgers mentally, "she was what Sir Nigel is--leastways what he'd ought to be an' ain't." She led the way back to the fallen wall and stood and looked at it.
"It's a beautiful old wall," she said.