When Owen was safely gone Toni entered the house with a look of determination on her face, and retreating to the little white-panelled room known as the morning-room she rang the bell to summon Kate to her presence.

It was not Kate who answered the ring, however. In her stead came Maggie, the rosy-faced housemaid, who had already fallen in love with her young mistress, and was ready to carry out any order which Mrs. Rose might give.

"Oh, it's you, Maggie?" Toni looked up from the paper on which she was scribbling. "Where's Kate?"

It seemed Kate was busy, poulticing Mrs. Blades, who was suffering under one of her usual attacks of bronchitis, and she had sent Maggie, with apologies, in her stead.

"Mrs. Blades is really ill? Had she better see a doctor?"

No, Maggie was empowered by Kate to say that a doctor's visit was unnecessary. Mrs. Blades often had these attacks, and they knew just what to do; but she would not be able to attend to her duties for a couple of days at the least.

In spite of herself Toni's face brightened. Not that she wished Mrs. Blades to suffer, but she knew quite well that the old housekeeper, for all her respectful ways, resented the arrival of a mistress of whom, for some reason, she did not approve; and Toni felt rather glad that for to-day, at any rate, she could be in reality the mistress of the whole establishment.

With the other servants she was on the best of terms. Whatever Mrs. Blades might think of Toni's social position previous to her marriage she was sufficiently loyal to keep her doubts to herself; and Martha the cook, Kate the serious parlourmaid, and Andrews the young man-servant, one and all combined to make their new mistress feel at ease with her staff.

Maggie, to-day, was full of importance at being allowed to replace Kate to assist Toni in her preparation for the afternoon's visitor; and she listened attentively to all that Toni had to say.

"I want a really nice tea, Maggie!" Toni looked up from her list with a serious face. "Miss Gibbs has to catch an early train from town, and won't have time for much lunch." Even the unsophisticated Toni knew better than to mention the nature of Miss Gibbs' employment. "So I want tea at four o'clock and it must be pretty—well, substantial."

Maggie fully endorsed the suggestion, and waited to see what Mrs. Rose considered necessary for the meal.

"Tea and hot cakes, of course. And that lovely plum cake Martha made for ..." Toni blushed, but went on bravely "... for our wedding-cake. And then—is it possible to get shrimps, Maggie?"

"Why, yes, ma'am—don't you remember cook's shrimp savoury for Sunday lunch? And you'd shrimp sauce with the fish last night."

"Of course, so we had. Well, when the man calls from the fish shop, order some. You get them by the pint—or is it the pound?" said Toni, vaguely remembering her aunt's orders on the occasion of a tea-party.

Maggie thought it was the pint; and in any case she would give the order to the young man herself.

"Very well. And then—what else, Maggie? I do want a nice tea."

The little handmaiden eagerly racked her brain for some brilliant idea; and finally suggested that Cook was very fond of making "shape."

"Shape? Oh, I see," said Toni a trifle dubiously. "You mean a blanc-mange or a cream. But I don't think it would do for tea."

Maggie thought, respectfully, that it would do fine. In her last place her mistress always had a shape when company was coming to tea. But—suddenly her rosy face grew even more pink—perhaps she was wrong, and anyway Mrs. Rose knew best.

Sorry for the girl's evident embarrassment Toni gave the order forthwith for a cream; and then turned to the subject of dinner.

"Miss Gibbs will stay to dinner, and we will have it at half-past seven. That gives us time to go on the river first; and the cab won't be here till nine."

"Cook's sent you a mennyoo, ma'am." Maggie produced a somewhat crumpled piece of paper. "She thought perhaps something of this sort would do."

Toni ran her eye over the paper, and her brow cleared.

"Soup, fish, sweetbread and green peas, chicken...." she gave the paper back. "Yes, it will do beautifully, and I'm sure Miss Gibbs will like Martha's trifle. Well, Maggie, that's all, I think. Have I forgotten anything?"

The two girls stared at one another for a moment, their faces quite solemn with the effort of concentration. Then Toni relaxed and spoke gaily.

"No, that's all, I'm sure ... well, Maggie, what have you thought of now?"

"Please, ma'am, the flowers."

"Yes, I'd forgotten! Good girl, Maggie! Well, get me the scissors and a basket, and then you might put the vases ready in the little room."

Maggie flew to obey the commands, and Toni, to whom the idea of giving orders was still almost ludicrous, strolled to the window to await her return.

The room overlooked the river, and on that account was a favourite with Toni. It was reached by a short flight of stairs apart from the main staircase, and boasted a large casement window, built over the terrace below, and giving the river an air of proximity which always delighted Toni.

To-day the water sparkled in the sunshine with a very cheerful effect; and as Toni looked a cream-white swan drifted by, the sun's light turning its feathers into a kind of gilded snow. A punt passed slowly with two occupants, one a girl in a white frock, lying lazily on a heap of blue-green cushions, her uncovered head protected from the sun by a scarlet parasol, the other a bronzed and fair-haired youth, who wielded his pole with an athletic grace purely Greek.

Toni's eyes softened as the two glided by. Her own happiness was so immense, her love for Owen had been so wonderfully, so completely satisfied, that she wished all other girls to be as happy as she was; and although the two in the punt were only visible for a few moments she thought she could read in their faces the story of their mutual attraction.

When Maggie returned Toni took the basket and went out into the garden. Gathering flowers was an occupation of which she never tired. Never, since her days on the hill-slope above Naples, had she been able to indulge her passionate love for flowers; and to the girl who had been wont to regard sixpence spent on a branch of golden mimosa, or a handful of the big pink carnations which seem indigenous to the London streets, as something of an extravagance, the delight of filling bowls and vases with unlimited supplies of the loveliest, freshest flowers could not be overrated.

To-day she cut more lavishly than usual in Fanny's honour, and when, just as the lunch gong sounded, she rested from her labours, the lovely old house was a dream of beauty and colour and scent.

Snapdragons, in every shade of yellow and pink and deep, rich rose, stood in tall jars, wherever there was a dark corner to be lighted up. Big blue bowls held masses of roses of every describable hue, whose fragrance scented all the house; and every available inch of space had been utilized as a resting-place for one or more vases of the sweetest, gayest blooms imaginable.

Even Toni was satisfied at last, and she hurried over her lunch in good spirits. Just as she was rising from the table a thought struck her.

"Kate, do you think we might have tea in here? You see—we ought to have a table, I think—and it wouldn't matter for once, would it?"

Kate, who had experienced sundry qualms at the idea of a feast of shrimps in the charming, old-world drawing-room, gave a decided assent.

"It would be much more suitable, ma'am. I could put a pretty lace cloth on the table, and then with some flowers it would look quite nice."

"Thank you, Kate." Toni gave vent to a relieved sigh. "You and Maggie are really treasures in helping me. Oh—how is Mrs. Blades!"

Mrs. Blades was better; but Kate, who had a shrewd notion of the old woman's real opinion of her pretty mistress, was not ill-pleased to inform Toni that the bronchial attack from which she was suffering made it impossible for her to supervise the household affairs for to-day at least.

"Well, you must look after things for me, Kate," said Toni, smiling in a friendly fashion at the girl; and Kate, although she had lived in "smart" houses, and knew that shrimps and blanc-mange were not usually met with at tea, succumbed still more completely to that friendly little smile.

"Why shouldn't she have her tea-party as she likes it?" she said to herself as she went out. "The master's away, and she's not likely to do this sort of thing when he's about." Kate, who was thirty-one, and experienced in the ways of the world, was quite aware of the element of awe in Toni's love for her husband—an element of which Toni herself was as yet wholly unsuspicious. "And I've no doubt this young lady as is coming down isn't used to great things. You can see as Mrs. Rose hasn't lived with anyone partikler—but she's a real little lady in her ways, for all that," concluded this authority on the ways of gentlefolk.

Punctually at three o'clock Miss Gibbs arrived; and was shown into the drawing-room, where Toni awaited her coming.

To tell the truth Miss Gibbs was a little awed by the unexpected grandeur of her surroundings; and not even the consciousness of her new linen frock and elaborately-trimmed hat could give her quite her usual assurance.

She followed Andrews meekly across the hall, hardly daring to lift her eyes; and when the man threw open the drawing-room door and ushered her in, Fanny unconsciously moderated her usual hearty footstep and endeavoured to make her entry as inconspicuous as possible.

Toni, who had not heard the cab arrive, jumped up hastily from her low chair and ran to meet her cousin, while Andrews discreetly withdrew and closed the door.

"Fanny! How glad I am to see you!" Toni hugged Miss Gibbs affectionately. "I'd have come to meet you but I was so late with lunch that I hadn't time."

"I found a cab waiting for me," said Fanny, returning her embrace. "You were a dear to send it, Toni. You're quite a way from the station, aren't you?"

"I suppose we are," said Toni carelessly. "But how are you, Fan? And Auntie—and Lu and all of them?"

"Mother's first-rate and longing to see you when you can get up to town. Everyone's all right," said Fanny comfortably. "Lu's been in mischief again, though. She and some of the girls from her school played truant t'other day and went to see a County cricket-match. You know cricket's the craze this term, and they got their money stolen and couldn't get home, and Lu didn't land up till ten o'clock at night!"

"You don't mean it! What did Auntie say?"

"She didn't say much then, 'cause Lu was cryin' and nearly dead with tramping for miles; but next day she got a jolly good whipping and was shut up on bread and water all over Sunday."

"Oh, poor Lu!" Toni felt very pitiful towards the hapless cricket enthusiast. "After all, Fan, you and I once ran away to see the Boat Race on our own!"

"Yes, and we got jolly well punished for it, too! I can remember Ma's slipper to this day!"

"Well, you ought to be sorry for Lu!"

"Serve her right," said Miss Gibbs with sisterly severity. "Cricket, indeed! What do girls want with cricket! Anyhow, she won't do it again in a hurry—Ma saw to that!"

"And how's Josh, Fan?" Toni saw that no sympathy was to be looked for from the culprit's sister.

"A 1. I say, Toni, where's Mr. Rose?" Fanny, regaining some of her usual assurance, looked round her vaguely.

"He has had to go up to town. But I thought you wouldn't mind, Fan. I want to show you the house and have a real good talk."

"My! It is a house and no mistake!" Fanny gazed about the beautiful room with frank admiration. "I thought the man must be going wrong when he turned in here—and what lovely gardens you've got."

"Yes, they are jolly, aren't they? Well, shall we go over the house before tea or after? It's very nearly four, and I said we'd have tea early."

"I'm glad of that." Fanny beamed approval. "To tell you the truth, Toni, I hadn't time for much lunch. We're supposed to shut at one, you know, but of course we don't get off at once, and to-day everything went wrong! At the last minute I upset a box of ribbons, and the spiteful things all went and got unrolled, and then that odious little Jackson—you know, the shopwalker I told you about—came and slanged me like anything."

"What a shame!" Toni had been one of the workers of the world too recently to have lost sympathy with the grievances of those who work. "I wish you could leave the old shop, Fanny. Why don't you and Josh get married?"

"Too soon." Fanny was of a prudent nature. "We must wait till Josh gets a rise, and I can't afford to leave the shop. You see, I must have a few clothes before I marry ... by the way, Toni, what about your clothes? You didn't get much when you married, did you?"

"No, but before we came here we went up to town and stayed at the Russell for two days and did a whole heap of shopping." Toni stifled a sigh at the thought of those long hours spent in shops. "You see I didn't really know what to get, so Owen went, with me, and I got a lot of things ready-made, and was fitted for others, so I have quite a trousseau by now!"

"That skirt's well-cut," said Miss Gibbs, surveying her cousin critically. "Blue serge always looks well—and that white blouse is good thick silk."

"I'm glad you like it. Owen likes me in these low collars, and they're cool." Toni looked at the clock. "But come upstairs and take off your hat and we'll have tea straight away."

Nothing loth, Miss Gibbs agreed; and went into fresh raptures when she saw Toni's bedroom.

"My! What lovely furniture!" She went up to the toilet-table and began to examine it. "And these silver brushes and things—are they all yours?"

"Yes. Owen gave them to me."

"Well to be you," commented Miss Gibbs briskly. "What a lovely long glass, too! Can't you see yourself properly just!"

She stood in front of the glass so long that Toni grew impatient.

"Hurry up, Fan! I'm sure tea's ready and I'm dying for some. I hadn't much lunch."

Thus incited, Miss Gibbs laid aside the flowery hat she had been admiring, disclosing a much curled and waved coiffure, and together the cousins ran downstairs, just as Andrews carried in the silver tea-pot and the hot cakes.

Kate, true to her word, had made the best of the oval table. She had laid upon it the finest, laciest cloth she could find, and had placed in the centre a tall jar of lilies, while here and there she had found room for small silver bowls of pink roses. The silver tea-tray, with its thin china cups and saucers, stood proudly at the head of the table; and so far nothing could have been more charming.

But alas! Even Kate could not hide the eminent unsuitability of the feast itself to its elegant surroundings. True, the bread and butter was of wafer-like thinness, there were hot cakes of the crispest, finest variety, and the plum-cake which was Martha's welcome to the bride was of the richest, most tempting description.

But side by side with those delicacies was a dish of shrimps, in all their native vulgarity; and further down, almost hidden in fact by the flowery centrepiece, was a glass dish containing a velvety white cream whose real place should have been on the dinner-table.

For a moment Toni's heart misgave her as she saw these things in their blatancy; and she wished she had stuck to the usual tiny sandwiches which Martha sent up when she and Owen were alone. Then she remembered, gratefully, that Fanny was hungry, and common sense whispered that to a girl who had lunched lightly a sandwich was unsatisfying fare.

As for Fanny, her spirits, momentarily damped by the sight of the silver tray, rose with a bound as she surveyed the table.

"I say, Toni, what a spread! Shrimps, I declare! Well, I thought you'd have been much too smart nowadays to think of them!"

"Nonsense!" Toni's depression vanished, and she laughed gaily. "I always did like shrimps—and why shouldn't I have them if I want them? Come and sit down, Fan—here, by me—and do make a good tea!"

Fanny needed no second bidding. Taking the seat indicated she leaned forward to examine the silver in the most open fashion.

"I say, you've got some tiptop things and no mistake! That cloth is simply lovely—just look at the lace, as fine as fine!"

"It belonged to Owen's mother," said Toni, passing her a cup of tea. "There are lots of things like that in the house. Now, Fanny, help yourself—and pass the dish!"

Thus invited, Fanny did help herself; and presently both girls were happily eating and talking, Fanny asking innumerable questions and Toni satisfying her curiosity without entering into details.

Suddenly Toni jumped up.

"There's Jock at the door. You must see him, Fan—he's a darling, and I'm sure you'll love him!"

Almost before the door was properly open Jock hurled himself reproachfully into the room, and flinging himself on to his mistress, inquired in the plainest dog-language why she had been so slow in answering his summons. When she had apologized and received his forgiveness, she introduced him to Miss Gibbs, who was won immediately by his courteous manner towards her and the friendliness in his nice brown eyes.

She cemented the acquaintance by offering him—timidly—a piece of cake; and instantly Jock threw dignity to the winds and begged, shamelessly, for further morsels; which being denied him caused him to bark vociferously and show off his few tricks in the hope of adequate reward.

He was engaged in walking on his hind legs round the room, following Fanny, who was laughing excitedly and flourishing a piece of cake, while Toni clapped her hands and called out words of encouragement at the top of her voice, when a loud whirring sound on the gravel outside made both girls turn in the direction from which came the noise—just in time to see a big grey car shoot by the window on its way to the front door.

One glance was enough.

"Good gracious, Fan! Visitors! What a bore!"

"Will they come in? Won't your man say you're out?" gasped Fanny, hastily dropping the bit of cake she held and pinning up a roll of hair which had come down in the game.

"No—they saw us," said Toni wildly. "I never said I wasn't at home—and anyway they'd hear us laughing!"

In a dead silence the two girls stood, waiting breathlessly to see what would happen; and in the sudden hush they heard the clang of the big bell, and Andrews' speedy arrival in the hall.

For one wild moment Toni thought of waylaying him with instructions to send the visitors away. The next instant she realized that such a course was impossible, and waited helplessly for the next act of the drama.

Andrews opened the door, and Toni heard a gentle, cultured voice ask if Mrs. Rose were at home.

For a fraction of a second Andrews, who was young enough to be human, and had not yet become a machine, hesitated as though he would fain deny his mistress to these invaders; but finally habit triumphed over humanity and he replied stolidly in the affirmative.

The next moment Toni, standing by the door, heard the rustle of skirts and the firm step of a man, which sounds proceeded in the direction of the drawing-room; and with an agonized sign to her cousin Toni flew back to her seat behind the tea-tray just as the door opened to admit Andrews.

The visitors, knowing themselves unknown, had provided the servant with cards; and these Andrews silently presented to his mistress, who took them with a shaking hand.

"The Honourable Mrs. Anstey, Miss Olive Lynn, Mr. Barry Raymond——" She broke off with a sigh of relief. "Why, that's Owen's friend, Fanny. It's not half so bad if he's there!"

She turned to the man.

"Are they in the drawing-room, Andrews?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Oh!" For a second Toni hesitated, then common sense came to her rescue. "I will come, Andrews. Fanny, will you come with me?"

"Oh, do let me stay here," begged Miss Gibbs, who was still endeavouring to make herself tidy. "I'm such a sight, playing with the dog—but you go, Toni ... and p'raps they won't stop long."

Toni walked across the hall with lagging footsteps, preceded by the sympathetic Andrews, who threw open the door for her with a compassionate air, and then retired to break the news of this intrusion to the maids who were anxiously waiting his return.

In the drawing-room were three people; and as Toni made her entrance, looking like a veritable schoolgirl in her blouse and short skirt, the oldest of the trio came forward with an expression of surprise on her beautiful, faded face.

"Mrs. Rose?" She shook hands. "I am so glad to find you at home. This is my niece, Miss Lynn, who is staying with me—and Mr. Raymond I think you know?"

Toni, feeling shyer than ever, shook hands with the pretty, grey-eyed girl who approached at the sound of her name; and then turned, with a feeling of genuine relief, to Barry.

"Mr. Raymond! I'm so pleased to see you—but I'm afraid Owen isn't at home!"

"I know that!" He laughed. "He is doing a little work to-day, for a change—and my call is really on you!"

"Well, won't you sit down?" Toni drew a low chair forward for Mrs. Anstey, who accepted it with a smile, while Olive Lynn sank down on the couch, where, after a second's pause, Toni also took her seat.

"I had hoped to see you before now," said Mrs. Anstey, with a smile which won Toni's impressionable heart. "But I heard you had only just got home, and thought I would give you a chance to settle down."

"It is very good of you to come," said Toni simply. "You live some distance away, don't you? I think my husband pointed out your house to me when we were motoring one day."

"Yes, nearly eight miles off—in the next village, in fact. But as you have a motor I hope you'll come over and see me pretty often." She gave the invitation with a pleasant note of sincerity. "Just at present my niece is taking pity on me, but I am very lonely sometimes."

"I will come, certainly," said Toni, feeling curiously at ease with this charming, elderly woman who, in spite of her aristocratic bearing, was so delightfully kindly. "I haven't returned any calls yet—but my husband tells me I must really start next week."

"Do—and come to tea with me first of all." Mrs. Anstey spoke quite unconsciously, but something in her words aroused Toni to a sense of her own deficiencies as hostess.

Tea—of course! Owen had told her that it was imperative to offer tea to afternoon visitors; and these people had motored eight miles over a dusty road—they must be hot and thirsty and longing for tea.

Yet—suddenly Toni felt it would be impossible to ask her guests to participate in the feast which she had spread for Fanny. The delicacies which had been prepared for her cousin took on a very uncouth appearance, and from the bottom of her heart Toni wished she had kept to the usual rÉgime of dainty sandwiches and cakes.

Yet she must offer tea—and quickly, before her visitors had time to doubt her hospitable intentions. She was so lost in thought that she let Mrs. Anstey's remark go unanswered; and Barry, looking at her, wondered what had made her suddenly colour hotly and look embarrassed and nervous.

Truth to tell, Toni was hot all over. A more experienced hostess than she would have rung the bell and requested Andrews to bring tea; and doubtless he would have done so without delay, thereby saving the situation; but to Toni's mind the fact that tea was ready in the room across the hall quite precluded the possibility of having another tea brought for the latest visitors; besides which it flashed through her mind that these people must have seen the tea-table through the big dining-room window.

Olive Lynn, seeing her confusion, but not understanding its cause, tried good-naturedly to put her at her ease.

"I think I saw you on the river last night, didn't I? We were in a canoe, and you and Mr. Rose were punting."

"Oh—yes!" Toni, still wrestling with her problem, answered rather vaguely. "We—we had taken tea with us and were late home."

"That's so jolly, isn't it?" Olive smiled. "We often do that—take a tea-basket and have a picnic."

Tea again! Suddenly Toni grew desperate. Tea must be offered; there was no way out of this dilemma save a frank acceptance of the situation; and with a sinking heart Toni took the plunge.

"I ... we were just having tea, my cousin and I," she said abruptly. "Will you ... will you come and have some? I'm sure you must be thirsty after your drive."

Mrs. Anstey, with a look at her niece, accepted courteously. It was a hot day and the roads were dusty, and in a house like Greenriver one need not be afraid of putting one's hostess out by accepting a cup of tea.

"Thank you. A cup of tea would be very refreshing—I'm sure Olive thinks so, don't you, dear?"

"Oh, I'm always ready for tea," replied the girl, laughing, "and motoring does make one thirsty, doesn't it, Mrs. Rose?"

"Will you come, then?" Toni had risen, and now moved, feeling cold with nervousness, towards the door. "We ... we are having tea in the dining-room to-day."'

Barry opened the door as she spoke; and together the little party crossed the hall to the dining-room. Andrews was hovering about; and as he saw his mistress leading her guests he slipped away in search of fresh cups and a supply of hot tea.

Inside the dining-room Miss Gibbs, having reduced her appearance to something like order, was sitting rather apprehensively in her place; and as the door opened to admit the quartette she rose and stood waiting nervously for Toni's introductions.

These were soon made. Mrs. Anstey and Olive shook hands with Fanny, each of them wondering in her mind at the relationship between her pretty, shy hostess and this florid, rather overdressed young woman; but convention mercifully intervened to hide their wonder; and Fanny could find no fault with their courteous greetings.

With Barry it was quite impossible to feel ill at ease; and he shook hands so nicely, making a remark about Jock as he did so, that Fanny felt suddenly comfortable again.

The guests, in response to Toni's invitation, seated themselves; Olive taking a chair by Fanny's side, while Mrs. Anstey sat next to her hostess, and Barry appropriated a stool beside the elder woman.

Andrews entering with fresh supplies, Toni provided her visitors with tea, losing her first nervousness as she did so; and for a moment it seemed as though the little party would be a success after all.

Mrs. Anstey had just accepted a hot cake, and Olive was begging prettily for another lump of sugar, when Jock, who had been sitting quietly beside his mistress, suddenly rose and rushed madly over to the window, uttering a succession of shrill barks as he did so.

Everyone glanced at the window to see what had disturbed him; and there, on the gravel outside, stood two ladies, evidently a little uncertain of the Airedale's intentions.

"I think those are some more visitors, Mrs. Rose!" Barry gave her a quizzical look. "It never rains but it pours! Shall I ... er ... Jock seems a little anxious to send the visitors away!"

Luckily the window was raised a good height from the ground; and Jock was obliged to content himself with putting his paws on the window-seat and barking still more fiercely at the figures without.

Presently, however, the two ladies appeared to regain the courage they had momentarily lost; and vanished from sight in the direction of the front door; which was shortly opened by Andrews, who had evidently been lurking in the hall listening to Jock's protestations.

It is possible that the man, who was really little more than a boy, lost his head; or perhaps he was infected by the spirit of nervousness which had gripped Toni earlier in the afternoon. At any rate, whatever the excuse, he made no pretence of showing the new-comers into the drawing-room, but opened the dining-room door and ushered them straight into the presence of his mistress; after which he closed the door and leaned against the wall, aghast at his own stupidity.

To make matters worse, he had announced the ladies in so indistinct a voice that Toni had not the faintest notion who her visitors were; and for a second they stared helplessly at one another, while Jock, who had conceived a violent dislike for these latest comers, barked loudly and unmercifully throughout.

At last, however, just as Toni mustered up courage to shake hands, Mrs. Anstey came to the rescue.

"Why, Lady Martin, I had no idea you were home again. You have come to welcome Mrs. Rose, I suppose. My dear"—to Toni—"Lady Martin is your nearest neighbour—really near, I mean; only a mile away."

"Less by the fields." Lady Martin spoke magisterially. "And this fine weather tempted us to walk, although both the cars were standing idle in the garage."

Having thus established her position as the owner of two cars, Lady Martin brought forward her daughter and presented her to Toni, who received an instant impression of size, teeth and volubility as Miss Martin shook hands and expressed her pleasure at finding Mrs. Rose at home.

The next thing to do was obviously to provide chairs for the guests, and this Toni did, with the help of Barry, who appeared to be on fairly friendly terms with the two ladies; and once again Toni turned her attention to filling teacups.

Fanny, who had been somewhat overlooked during the last strenuous moments, was relieved to hear herself addressed in a friendly tone by Miss Lynn, who felt sorry for the girl, so obviously ill-at-ease; and in return for the kindly attention Fanny eagerly handed Olive the dish of shrimps with an invitation to "try some."

Olive Lynn, who had possibly never met these small creatures in their native armour before, hesitated, casting a look at Barry at the same moment; but he was engaged in handing Lady Martin some bread and butter; and Olive's appeal went unanswered.

Taking Miss Lynn's silence for consent, and being really anxious to help Toni by making her guests eat a good tea, Fanny eagerly piled her neighbour's plate with shrimps; and at that moment Lady Martin first discovered what plebeian dishes the table held.

Ignoring Barry and his bread and butter, she put up her lorgnette and deliberately scrutinized the heap of pink shrimps which Fanny, pleased with her success, was just pushing across to Miss Martin. For a second her ladyship was speechless; then, as her daughter turned a haughty stare upon the officious commoner, Lady Martin spoke.

"I think, Lucretia, you had better leave those—er—shellfish alone. I understand there is always a danger of ptomaine poisoning with such things."

Toni dropped a lump of sugar with a clatter on the tray and turned scarlet. Lady Martin's tone was so deliberately offensive, her manner so disagreeable, that Toni felt like a chidden schoolgirl; and again the enormity of her social mistake swept over her, rendering her quite incapable of making any reply to the attack.

But rescue was at hand. Barry, who from the first had felt a chivalrous interest in his friend's wife, had seen the colour sweep into her face, and had determined that the Martins, mother and daughter, should not exercise their well-known prerogative of snubbing any woman who did not boast a title.

It is true that Lady Martin was the wife of a soap manufacturer, knighted for services to his party; and both sprang from a very humble class; but what they lacked in breeding they made up for in arrogance; and Lady Martin had early determined that if she wished to become a power in the neighbourhood she must assert herself on every occasion. Also, she had intended to patronize the young mistress of Greenriver; and to find Mrs. Anstey, the only person in the district of whom she stood in awe, here before her had disturbed her mean little soul.

Barry, quick as a woman in some matters, read her mind accurately, and immediately ranged himself on the side of his embarrassed hostess.

"Are those shrimps, Mrs. Rose? And you never asked me to have any!"

He flashed a laughing glance at her, and drew the dish towards him, resolved that he at least would not shirk his duty.

"I ... I'm sorry ... I forgot," said Toni lamely. "But ... please don't have any if you'd rather not."

"It seems hardly the hour for these—delicacies," said Lady Martin, waving haughtily aside the dish Barry offered her mischievously. "In sauce—or pÂtÉs—yes ... but now—no!"

"Oh, you're making quite a mistake," said Barry coolly, helping himself as he spoke. "They are delicious with bread and butter. Olive, you've got some? That's right. Mrs. Anstey, can't I persuade you to try a few?"

Mrs. Anstey, thoroughly understanding the look of appeal which Barry's laughing eyes held, smiled very kindly.

"My dear boy, I never eat much tea, as you know—but still—if you'll prepare me one or two ... they really look so tempting...."

To her dying day Lady Martin would never forget that afternoon. There sat Mrs. Anstey, whom everyone knew to be related to half the "good" families of England, eating shrimps, shelled for her by Barry, with an air of enjoyment which was in itself an offence. There, too, was Miss Lynn, niece to an earl, doing likewise, being assisted in the mysteries of divorcing the creatures from their shells by the blowsy, florid young woman beside her, with whom she was soon on excellent terms. And there, also, was Barry Raymond, a young man for whom everyone had a good word, laughing and joking with his hostess as though they were old friends, while that same hostess lost her frightened look beneath his geniality and did the honours of the tea-tray very prettily.

Only Lady Martin and her daughter were out of it; and when she found that her cold looks and biting speeches made no impression on anyone—for even Fanny was at ease now with these delightful people—her ladyship could bear it no longer.

Rising abruptly, and cutting short a sentence of Toni's as though she heard nothing, Lady Martin called her daughter to her side.

"I think, Lucretia, if you have finished your tea"—both ladies had left their cups untouched—"we must tear ourselves away. We promised to look in at the Vicarage, and you know we are dining with the Batty-Browns to-night!"

Having thus made it clear that she was in much social demand, Lady Martin advanced upon her hostess and held out her hand aggressively.

"Good-bye, Mrs. Rose. So glad to have seen you. I am always at home on Wednesdays in the summer."

Toni shook hands quietly, and Miss Martin followed suit with a limp handshake; after which the two ladies took what was intended to be a gushing farewell of the other guests, ignoring Fanny as though she were not present.

Andrews was in waiting to show the ladies out; and when, a moment later, they swept by the window, their high-heeled shoes crunching the gravel sternly, Barry heaved a sigh of relief.

"I don't know how it is, but Lady Martin always gives me the creeps. Mrs. Rose, is it too late to beg another cup of tea? I assure you I really want it, to buck me up."

Toni, who was very pale, filled his cup with rather a trembling hand, and Mrs. Anstey saw that the woman's insolence had unnerved her.

Appearing to notice nothing, she began to make conversation, discoursing gently on various unimportant topics until Toni grew more like herself; and when at length Mrs. Anstey rose to go she had completely won Toni's grateful heart.

Toni took leave of her visitors regretfully, and readily promised to return the visit as soon as possible; and then she and Fanny accompanied them to the door to see them comfortably settled in the big grey car.

Barry was driving, Olive sitting beside him; and the girl turned and waved a kindly hand as the car began to glide down the avenue in the afternoon sunshine.

"My! Isn't she pretty!" Miss Gibbs' admiration was sincere. "And that blue bonnet of hers was a dream—must have cost pounds!"

"I think Mrs. Anstey is beautiful," said Toni, rather dreamily, gazing after the car. "I don't wonder Miss Lynn is so devoted to her. She is just my ideal of a lady."

"Better than that other stuck-up cat," said Fanny rather viciously. "And as for that maypole of a daughter, she's nothing but a gawk."

"Oh, don't let's go in there!" Toni laid a hand on her cousin's arm as Fanny turned towards the dining-room. "I don't want to see the tea-table any more! Fan, wasn't it horrible when they came first?"

"Well, they were a bit sticky," said Fanny frankly. "But nobody seemed to care! Mr. Raymond was just making game of them all the time."

"Well, don't let's think of them," said Toni, shaking herself as though freeing her shoulders from an incubus. "We'll go on the river for an hour, Fan, and then you shall see the house."

The programme was carried out successfully, and beneath Fanny's affectionate chatter Toni regained the spirits she had lost. She took her cousin on the river, returning in time to see the old house before the summer darkness fell; and after a very satisfactory little dinner Miss Gibbs departed, highly pleased with her entertainment.

Owen was not to be home till nearly midnight, and Toni decided not to sit up. Indeed, she was tired, and it was barely ten o'clock when she went upstairs to bed. Something was troubling her, too; and as she walked slowly down the long gallery, lighted only by the Ten Little Ladies, she was asking herself a question which, in spite of its humorous form, held a hint of tragedy.

"Shall I have to tell Owen everything—how rude she was and what an idiot I felt? Must I really tell him about—about the shrimps?"

She paused, looking about her as though seeking an answer to her question, which held indeed a significance which she dimly understood.

But the Ten Little Ladies had no reply to give her; and with a sigh Toni passed on and entered her own room in silence.