May we sit down for a minute in your garden?
The bull was a wretch!" But even in speaking, she was uneasily conscious that Mrs.Noel's clear eyes were seeing very well what she had come for.

The look in them indeed was almost cynical; and in spite of her sympathetic murmurs, she did not somehow seem to believe in the bull.

This was disconcerting.

Why had Barbara condescended to mention the wretched brute?
And she decided to take him by the horns.
"Babs," she said, "go to the Inn and order me a 'fly.' I shall drive back, I feel very shaky," and, as Mrs.Noel offered to send her maid, she added: "No, no, my granddaughter will go." Barbara having departed with a quizzical look, Lady Casterley patted the rustic seat, and said: "Do come and sit down, I want to talk to you:" Mrs.Noel obeyed.

And at once Lady Casterley perceived that "she had a most difficult task before her.