Front matter

JARROLDS Publishers LONDON Limited, 10 and 11 Warwick Lane, E.C.

First Printed in 1910 Reprinted 1913 " 1915 " 1916 " 1917 " 1918 " 1919 " 1921 " 1923 " 1924 " 1925

By the same author: HARUM SCARUM HARUM SCARUM MARRIED

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER

DO YOU REMEMBER?

FIFTY THOUSAND A YEAR

BEFORE THE FRAY

VERY EARLY

PREPARATIONS

REAL SILVER

THE VISITORS ARRIVE

A JOLLY GOOD FELLOW

A BARN DANCE

THE PATH OF PERFECTION

THE NEW SECRETARY

AN UNDIGNIFIED SITUATION

A BIG PILE

THE FIRST-FRUITS

GENTLE AND SIMPLE

UNEXPECTED NEWS

STUCK IN A BOG

A GENEROUS COUSIN

A REFUGE

SHAPING A ROMANCE

PLAYING WITH FIRE

FAILURE

TEN MINUTES

LEWIS' DECISION

SHORT NOTICE

ANOTHER OFFER

A TERRIBLE SECRET

LILIES AND A WEDDING

AN ANGRY LAWYER

A FIERY ORDEAL

HOME AGAIN

Harum Scarum's Fortune

CHAPTER I.

DO YOU REMEMBER?

Toney Whitburn pulled in her thorough-bred suddenly by a gap in the park and looked at her companion. The two had met by chance and they had had a canter together, so that the exercise had made the girl look radiant, and her hair, though twisted round her well-shaped head, rebelled at the restriction, and in protest curled itself round her temples and the nape of her neck.

"Do you know—I'm twenty-one to-morrow. Isn't it terrible?"

"Terrible!" answered the young Squire, Lewis Waycott, with a smile half of amusement and half of sympathy.

"You don't think so, but I do! You know I've honestly tried to become 'a young lady with expectations.' I've been to a finishing school at Paris, and I've tried to learn German at Dresden, and I've gone to sleep through ever so many concerts, and I've seen all the old things at Rome—and yet——"

"You haven't succeeded? You are just the same as you were, thank Heaven!"

Toney's joyous laugh woke the echoes.

"No, I've failed utterly, though, honest Injun, I have tried! Aunt Dove says so! She's always implying what a national misfortune it is that to-morrow I shall be my own mistress, but now, will you—you have always been awfully chummy—will you be the judge?"

"Between you and Lady Dove?"

"Yes. You know I offered to be her companion—and I meant it——"

"You always mean what you say, Toney."

"I try to because Pups always did— Oh, if only he could just come to me now and say, 'Toney, you must'—no, he always said we must—do this and that with our money."

"I wish he could—but if you ask me, Toney, I should say give it all to Lady Dove, as she seems mighty jealous of your having it."

For a moment Toney looked at her companion with wide open and surprised eyes, then she answered gravely,

"Do you really mean that?"

"Yes, I do," he muttered.

"You are quite wrong. The dear old General would rise from his grave if I gave away his present. Oh, I couldn't; besides—I believe he wished Aunt Dove not to have it, so it would be betraying trust if—— No, I've got to keep it, but the thing is what I'm to do with it!"

"It's not many people who are puzzled what to do with money. I suppose—you'll——"

"What? I never knew you jib before."

"I was going to say you'll have lots of offers—and marry some Nabob——"

Toney laughed.

"How odd you should say that! Do you know, I wanted to ask your opinion about that very thing, because I can trust you. What does one say if people make you offers?"

The two had been waiting by the gate that led into the plantation. It was a lovely October day with the sunshine turning yellow leaves into gold and decay made glorious by its touches. Toney was so unconscious that her remark was at all comical, that her companion dared not laugh, nor did he even dare to look surprised.

"If you love the man, say 'yes,' and if you don't, say 'no.'"

"Thank you. I see it does seem easy and simple. Dear old Crumpet—by the way, this was the gap she went through on our first visit to you—do you remember? Well, when we went to Italy together——"

"Lady Dove did not approve!"

"Of course not, but she was wrong. No one could have done it better than Crumpet. She was just delighted over everything, and I had to hide my yawns often not to make her sorry; I couldn't stand more than one gallery a day, and one ruin thrown in, I really couldn't, but she loved it all. Do you know every now and then she used to burst out into a soft little laugh all to herself just because she was so happy, and I was so scrumptiously pleased to hear it, that I swallowed an extra gallery and did another old ruin without letting her see how sleepy it made me."

"But she was with you to do as you liked, I thought!"

"Oh, to see Crumpet laugh was what I really enjoyed! Do you remember what she used to be like, and now what with the Reverend, and Harry, and Toney, she is quite too happy, she says. But that isn't what I wanted to say, you'll see her to-morrow, and I've been here so little that it all brings back the past to-day. You understand?"

"Yes, I do; it seems ages since you were here, except on awfully short visits."

"Well, in Italy, there was a young man who made me an offer."

"What impudence!"

"Oh, no, and he didn't do it to me personally, because he told Crumpet I never gave him the tiniest chance, but he did it to her instead! Wasn't it funny, and she wept bitterly when she told me, she thought it was her fault."

"And what answer did you give him?" This time his companion smiled.

"I begged Crumpet to tell him Pups had said that he pitied any man who married me, as I was such a dasher—you know—and that Aunt Dove said no one would ever propose to me except he wanted my money!"

The man at her side bit his lip and impatiently flipped his horse with his whip, holding him in tightly at the same time.

"Lady Dove said that!"

"Yes, and of course it's true! Aunt Dove does say the truth now and then. Don't you see yourself that it's true? I'm not like your cousin or Silvia Hales, or any of the nice girls about! Aunt Dove says Paris, Rome, Berlin, Dresden, and London, have all failed to make me an English young lady."

"A good thing too!"

"Oh, you say that because we are chums, but I know it's true. I can't feel different, though I've tried. Once a month I say 'make me a new heart' in the Psalms, you know, but nothing happens, so I suppose it isn't possible to alter some people, and I'm one of them."

"Nonsense!"

"No, it's true; Madame Lemoine, at Paris, used to say, 'Il faut toujours dire la vérité en famille,' but to other people it didn't matter. I told her it was all wrong, but she never could see it my way, so I gave it up, and she was an old dear in spite of her fibs!"

"She didn't convert you to fibbing, Toney!"

"There you see, I can't alter, but that wasn't what I was going to say. Do you know that last night, dear Uncle Evas—who is really quite cheerful now—and didn't he enjoy his times at Rome with me and Crumpet? for you know that with a lot of trouble and a little bribery I think, he got a month off last year."

They both laughed heartily, and slowly walked their horses on together. If a stranger had seen them he would have paused to look at this picture of the man and the maid.

"Well, what did your uncle say?"

"Oh, it was funny. He wanted to give me good advice about my coming of age! He cleared his throat and said, 'My dear Antonia, to-morrow you will be——' Then I laughed so much that he couldn't help joining in too, so I just gave him a hug till he begged for mercy."

Her companion also bowed his head over his horse's mane in happy laughter.

"I see, Toney, it's true you are incorrigible!"

"Yes, but really I don't believe you could have been so cruel as to let Uncle Dove give you a homily, now, could you? It would only have given him a sore throat for a month."

"I should like to have heard him all the same."

"You know he's just all right deep down in his heart, but he can't preach to save his life. However, when I released him—Aunt Dove had gone to bed, and he was so afraid of her hearing us—he showed me a long list of names, all men's names."

"Good heavens! What for?"

"I was a bit surprised too, and he laughed and said, 'Don't be afraid, they are not suitors,' then I scolded him and said he knew I never thought of such things. Well, then he explained that as I was coming into so much money—and do you know somehow it's a lot more than they expected—I must have a secretary, because it would take all my time and strength to open the letters. There's a lot come already, begging me to buy carpets and boots and smoked bacon, and heaps more things!"

"Never open letters, then you won't want a secretary," said Lewis decidedly.

"And I said, 'Oh, I can find a girl to do it,' but uncle intimated that there was more work than any poor girl could do, and that I must have a trained man—sort of lawyer—Mr. Staines insists on it, because he doesn't trust me with money—they none of them do—and fancy, dear old uncle had been spending hours collecting a lot of right-minded young men for me! Isn't it funny?"

"Very unnecessary; the London lawyers could do it all."

"No, they say they can't be bothered about begging letters, and so on; anyhow, I've got to have a secretary. I looked at the list and their testimonials and oh, do you know, everyone was perfect, and all their friends declared there was not a fault in them, so I told uncle it didn't matter which I took, and I suggested we should put their names on slips of paper and stick them up in his hat and pull one out!"

"Did he consent?"

"No! he was afraid I should tell of him I think, anyhow I had to choose, and there was one with an Australian uncle who recommended him highly. Out there we always recommended our relations, it wasn't neighbourly not to say all the good and leave out all the bad, so I told uncle I'd have him. Plantagenet Russell, that's his name. His father was a black sheep out home, but his uncle says he is most gentlemanly!"

"Toney, how ridiculous! Of course he's a plant too!"

"Gracious stars! what's the matter? I told you Uncle Dove had written about them all, he's all right and he's coming the day after to-morrow to see us, so as to avoid the coming of age party. You've promised to come, haven't you? I've been working so hard to get everything right for it."

"Of course, we are all coming."

"Heaps of Aunt Dove's friends are coming. We haven't had one refusal. Awfully kind of them, though of course I would much rather some of them didn't come, it's only to see if I've improved."

"Shall I stay away?"

"Why it would not be coming of age without you and Crumpet and Uncle Dove and Doctor Latham, and a few more—and Jim's coming to be my coachman and groom all in one, because Aunt Dove doesn't want to pay anything for me now I'm rich. Jim is just a faithful friend, and he's still engaged to his second young woman, the first was a bit fast so he gave her the slip one day."

"How do you know, Toney?"

"Jim and I have corresponded regularly. You see if you just leave go of these young fellows they soon forget their promises, besides I kept all his savings, and he's a nice little lump now in the Savings Bank. Oh, dear, it's tea-time and I must scoot! Mr. Staines is coming to explain things to me, and there's no end to do, but Crumpet is staying with me in our old rooms, top storey, and she'll help a bit. You should see the rooms, I spent all one quarter's pocket money on them, and now they're real palatial, at least Crumpet's is; I hate a lot of things, but I put in a big tub and—— Oh! gracious stars! I must go, so good-bye, dear old chum!"

Toney Whitburn held out a strong young hand and her companion grasped it.

"Look here, Toney, if you are in trouble or want anything, anything, you know—you'll ask me to help you—promise?"

"Of course I will. Haven't I just now asked you about young men and offers, all because I thought you would know and wouldn't laugh."

"Yes, thank you—and I'll come to-morrow in spite of not being sure I shall be welcome."

"There! you are telling fibs like Madame, but honest truth, I'd rather have you and Jim at my party, than any other men I know."

"Thanks awfully," and with a laugh the two separated. Toney galloped across the park, and the Squire was just going to jump the fence when he paused and looked back at her.

"Oh, Toney, Toney," he said to himself; "when will you understand, but even if you did I'll never let that horrid old cat say I wanted your money! Hang it all—and now there's a beastly young secretary coming to be always in her pocket. Sir Evas ought to know better!"

CHAPTER II.

FIFTY THOUSAND A YEAR.

Aldersfield House had changed very little outwardly since Antonia Whitburn and Trick had arrived there as lonely orphans. There was the same heavy, handsome, mid-Victorian furniture, the same stately and punctilious servants, or others of the same specie, because the same Lady Dove presided over the establishment. But as every human being changes for better or for worse, there was something even more displeasing than formerly in Lady Dove's face. She was a prey—and had been ever since the memorable day when she heard the news of Toney's good fortune—to the demon of jealousy, who never leaves his victims many peaceful moments, and just now he was her constant visitor. Toney had been very little at Aldersfield, because Sir Evas and Mr. Staines, the lawyer, had insisted on her having foreign advantages, and Lady Dove had eagerly acquiesced. The very sight of Toney increased her malady, but as no one knew this it had been decided that Toney should, for the present, live with her uncle and aunt, for everyone recognised that she had not learnt the use of money, and that it was not safe for her to be left quite unprotected. Strange to say Toney had not rebelled when she was told of this decision; she was very fond of her uncle, and though secretly she called Aunt Dove her "cross," she meant to carry the burden bravely so that Sir Evas should be able to be "off duty" as often as possible. The other plans that had been maturing in the mind of Harum Scarum were for the present kept a secret.

Before Toney could take off her habit she was bidden to come and see Mr. Staines in her uncle's study, so she and Trick hastily ran in, and indeed, Trick, having got jambed between her feet, nearly succeeded in making his mistress tumble—as it was, she lurched into the room in a most undignified manner.

"Gracious stars! I nearly took a header! It's Trick's fault. How do you do, Mr. Staines? I hope you won't be very solemn, as I want everyone to be awfully jolly to-morrow. I've made my own time-table this time," and the remembrance of Aunt Dove's time-table nearly upset Toney's gravity.

Mr. Staines had happily a sense of fun, besides he knew what to expect and merely smiled.

"It is my duty to be solemn, Miss Whitburn, but I fear it is an impossible duty in your presence! To-morrow you will come of age and you will have the sole control of your fortune. I tried to make General Stone insert some restrictions in his will, but he refused. I can still near our dear old friend saying, 'If you knew Toney Whitburn, Staines, you would know restrictions would be of no use!'"

Sir Evas was smiling in his corner. Perhaps Toney's fortune had brought him more happiness than to anyone else, for being her guardian, he had been fully occupied during her minority, and the work had been a real pleasure and occupation for him. Besides this, once a year he had got a month—not in prison, but with Toney abroad, and what good times those had been, even though he always had to pay handsomely for them on his return home. Now he added,

"The General was a very unwise man, and I do hope, Toney——"

"Yes, I know, uncle!—— Oh dear, I suppose my youth has flown now! I've got to do such a lot of thinking—but look here, Mr. Staines, tell me the amount I may spend and I'll promise I'll do it."

"This was what I wished to explain. Sir Evas Dove in accounting for his guardianship has left everything in order, and by a curious piece of luck he bought some land for you with some surplus money, which has turned out to be extremely valuable, as a rich vein of coal has been discovered on it. You will have—— Ehem—at least——"

"Oh, I don't mind, Mr. Staines, so don't hesitate at the figure."

"You will have fifty thousand a year, Miss Whitburn. It is a larger fortune than General Stone anticipated, and I can only hope that you will not long have to bear the burden of the fortune alone. Ehem—I hope that a happy marriage will—ere long——"

Toney shook her head and laughed.

"Oh no, it's no good hoping. Aunt Dove says no one would marry me except for the money, but I'll manage all right, and Uncle Evas will help, won't you!"

"I do not wish to influence you, Toney, my duty ends to-day, but you have never wanted for pluck——"

"No, no, certainly not," said the lawyer, "but if I may say so, Miss Whitburn, your ample pocket money seemed to melt in your hands. Several times you wrote to me for more, and in your last letter——"

Toney laughed as she seized Trick in the act of making a dash at Mr. Staines' heels.

"Yes, I know there was never enough. I'm a bit like Pups in that; our box was always getting empty, but there will be a heap now. Oh dear!" and Toney for a moment heaved a deep sigh.

"I've kept the amount of Toney's fortune a secret, Mr. Staines, from—the neighbourhood," said Sir Evas, "it's better so; of course there are fortune hunters everywhere and—I think, my dear, you had better not mention the actual figures. Everyone knows you will have some money, but even your aunt does not know accurately." Sir Evas looked a little shame-faced.

"Oh dear, I hate secrets," sighed Toney, "I'll try and say nothing—but gracious stars! I needn't tell anyone how it goes, need I, for it would be more than I could do?"

"Of course you need not, but it is more business-like to keep accounts," said the lawyer sternly, "and to come to details, it would be better to give Lady Dove the same amount as she has had, as long as you live here."

"Of course. You'll do that, Mr. Staines, and if you double it, perhaps she'll not dislike me so much."

Sir Evas shook his head deprecatingly.

"My dear child, you are welcome to all I can give you without return."

"You dear old duck of an uncle, of course you shan't have a penny of it, but Aunt Dove won't mind pickings—for the estate you know! and there's extra servants to pay and a lot of—— Is that all, Mr. Staines? By the way, uncle and I have chosen a secretary, so that's a good thing over! Ouf! I do wish it wasn't such a lot of pelf, sort of stifles one, doesn't it? The basket of Gwyddnen Garanhir was nothing to it, but I'll not be crushed by such a silly thing as money, you bet—— Oh, I mustn't say that, eh, Trick?"

"One thing more, Toney; I am going to give over to you the left wing of the house which we shut up some years ago. Your aunt agrees. (Lady Dove had said, "Pray do as you like, Evas, you always go against my wishes.") Come and see if it suits you. I've had it all done up."

"Well, that's real kind; but indeed, uncle, Crumpet's room and mine would have done. I'll keep those, no one wants them, and she can come often and stay with me."

Sir Evas led the way down a passage, and, opening a swing door, they passed through an old library full of books, with pretty windows looking over the park, and next to it a morning room painted white and furnished with old-fashioned oak things, which Lady Dove had long ago discarded as too much out of date. Beyond that again was a small garden room, opening out into the shrubbery.

"These shall be for you, Toney, where you may receive your own friends, and there are two rooms above for the secretary. Mr. Staines agrees with me that—well, considering your fortune, it is more fitting for you to have some rooms you may call your own."

"Oh!" exclaimed Toney, "it is just awfully nice, but—what will Aunt Dove say?"

Sir Evas was thinking the same to himself. Lady Dove had not once come to see the result of his work, and he knew he would have to pay her bill as well as that of the work-people who had decorated the old rooms. Still, you don't give a coming of age present for nothing, and he hoped he should pay his debts honestly!

"Trick, darling, here's your very own rooms, where you can bark as much as you like," and Toney, catching hold of her uncle, waltzed him round the room, regardless of Trick scampering after them barking and darting at the manly heels, whilst Mr. Staines stood by unable to hide a smile on his smooth lawyer-like face.

"Spare me, Toney! and for goodness' sake remember you are twenty-one to-morrow! I fear Mr. Staines will think all your foreign experience has not made a grown-up young lady of you!"

"Oh yes, it has!" said Toney, releasing him. "A sense of sorrow for my sins has grown awful big lately, and I never used to have it. It feels like indigestion, a lump here; but just this evening, uncle, I'll be young, and I'm so awfully pleased. I'll tell you what: you and I will have a sort of house-warming here next week, and ask just our very particular friends, but my party's coming first."

"There's the Winchley ball," said the lawyer, "I suppose you mean to go to that."

"Of course; I love dancing, and Uncle Dove must just come with me and hop a bit, but, Stars and Stripes, look! there's Crumpet's pony carriage and the fat pony bundling up the drive. I must go and get her out of it, for she's never got over her nervous feelings at driving up to Aldersfield. Uncle, remember it's her first visit here, and you will make her feel at home, won't you?" and Toney made a dash through the garden door and rushed to meet Mrs. Faber, who had come to spend two nights at Aldersfield House to celebrate Toney's coming of age. Mr. Faber was to appear the next day, and in the evening there was to be a great ball for the tenants and retainers, and others who had been invited. Sir Evas had had his way about this, and Lady Dove had grudgingly acquiesced, only saying that of course Antonia must pay all expenses.

This time the tables were reversed, and now Toney received the once humble companion at the big house, instead of being received by her.

"Oh, Crumpet, how nice! it's just perfect your coming like this. Jim! drive Mrs. Faber's carriage round, and take particular care of 'The Squire'" (this was the pony's name); "and oh, dear Chum, don't put on that scared look. Aunt Dove won't eat you; you're Mrs. Faber now, do remember that, and my honoured guest!"

"Oh, Toney!" gasped Mrs. Faber, "I feel as if I ought to be doing the flowers and writing notes and——" and then the little woman with the Fra Angelico face smiled like a saint; the scars of ancient chains never having quite disappeared.

"How I wish you had brought the piccaninnies; but it wouldn't do."

"Who is here in my place?" asked Mrs. Faber as she entered the hall, keeping close to Toney whilst the butler relieved her of her wraps.

"It's so funny, Crumpet; there's a companion here, Miss Grossman, who actually frightens Aunt Dove a little—she keeps strict hours and will not be put upon, but she knows her duties and is as strong as a horse. I can't help laughing! To be quite honest, she frightens me a little!"

"Oh, no! no one ever frightened you! but, Toney, don't leave me."

The butler opened the door and announced, "Mrs. Faber." The very fact of being announced at all to Lady Dove made Mrs. Faber wish to sink under the floor, but as this was not possible she bravely went forward behind Toney to greet her ancient slave-driver.

"Aunt Dove, here's Mrs. Faber come. Isn't it good of her to leave the pic—the children to come to my birthday party?"

Lady Dove stretched out two fingers without rising.

"Good afternoon, Anne Faber," she said, severely emphasizing the name, and using the word "afternoon" to make Mrs. Faber remember she was still the tradesman's daughter whom for fifteen years she had befriended by letting her act as her companion. In spite of her previous resolutions to remember that she was Henry's wife, and was well received by all her own neighbourhood, Mrs. Faber felt miserable. Why had she come? only for Toney's sake would she have undergone this ordeal.

"I'm quite well, thank you, Lady Dove," she answered, forgetting she had not been asked after her health, "and so are the children."

"Oh, are they? I can't think how you are going to bring them up on, your small income. I always say the clergy should have no children; sooner or later they expect us to bring them up."

"I'm sure Henry will never beg a penny for our children," said Mrs. Faber, the colour flushing her face, which, however, was no longer like ancient pastry, but was now adorned by a pretty delicate pink colour. Mrs. Faber really looked charming, and her dress was as dainty and simple as her face. Toney interposed.

"But, Aunt Dove, I'm godmother to both the children; you'll see what good times they'll have! It's awfully good of my Chum to have children I can play with. Oh dear, I've got to feel grown-up, Mr. Staines says, but just for this evening I'll still be young."

"Tea is coming in; sit down, Anne Faber, and kindly pour it out. That tiresome Grossman will never come in before five, as she insists on taking a walk till then. I really must give her notice, only one is afraid of getting something worse. You should never have married, Anne Faber. I got you quite into my ways, and since you left I've never had anyone who could write and read as you did."

"I'm very sorry you are not suited," murmured Mrs. Faber, beginning to make the tea whilst Toney flew at the kettle; but at that moment a tall angular woman appeared, and gave a terrible look at Lady Dove and at the other two, as she said tartly,

"It is five minutes to five; I am never late, Lady Dove, and, as you know, I never allow anyone to do my work. Excuse me——"

"I wish you would not argue, Grossman. Miss Whitburn and Mrs. Faber are quite equal to making tea if I choose to ask them;" but then the door opened, and Sir Evas and the lawyer entered and stopped further bickering between Lady Dove and her companion.

"Oh, Toney," whispered Sir Evas, "it's tartaric acid, I see; that woman's got a devil of a temper, and your Aunt Dove is really learning patience."

CHAPTER III.

BEFORE THE FRAY.

"Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Faber later on, when Toney threw open her old sitting-room door where the poor companion had had such miserable hours. It was as comfortable as modern comfort bought with modern money could make it. Then the little woman fairly sat down and cried.

"Gracious stars! I meant to make you laugh, Crumpet! Oh, gee! you see how hard it is to do right!"

Mrs. Faber quickly dried her tears and smiled.

"I can't help thinking of all my happiness now and comparing it with the past, and it's all owing to you, Toney. Do you remember——"

"Of course I do. What mostest fun we had when I dressed in your grandmother's garments, and then when your dear Henry came!"

"When I compare my past and my present I feel how ungrateful I am!"

"Nonsense, Chum, you never were ungrateful! But look here, I got aunt's leave to furbish up this room a bit so that you shouldn't be reminded of the old order. I knew you would prefer our being together up here, and I've got lots to tell you. First, I've had some dresses made for you, so that you shouldn't be put to any expense for my party." Toney quickly opened a wooden box and displayed the most lovely dresses imaginable, lovely because suitable and perfectly simple. One was a dinner dress of pale mauve silk, just suited to Mrs. Faber's delicate complexion, and the other was a white liberty silk dress for the ball. Mrs. Faber gasped.

"Oh no, Toney! it's impossible! They must have cost ever so much money, and I don't want people to say that I—I sponge upon you."

"There you are again, Crumpet! 'People to say,' I did think that you'd rise above that. Remember Henry's pleasure—and mine!"

"Henry may not think it right!"

"Look here, Chum, let's be serious just for one minute and listen. You know I've an awful lot of money, fifty thousand a year!" Mrs. Faber gasped again.

"It's a secret, by the way, but not from you. Well, when I first heard it I did what Pups would have done, I just dedicated it all to other people that wanted it, and I didn't guess it would be such hard work as I see it will be. After to-morrow I shall work like a Kanaka, but just for this week I'm going to please myself and not think if it's wise, or if it's political economy, or all the things I've been trying to learn to fit myself for spending this stuff."

"It will be too much work for you, dear!"

"Yes, it's awful! but I'm going to keep just enough to dress like Pups' daughter, because that's what I am. You know Aunt Dove never thought me fit to live here, and I'm not yet changed, you see! And there shall always be enough to take people abroad who want it every year, you, too, of course among the number, for you'll get so parochial if you don't rub about a little, that you must travel, and then the rest will have to be 'wisely distributed,' as Mr. Hales says. Ouf!"

"Oh, dear, it is too much work," repeated Mrs. Faber, gently feeling the dinner dress between her fingers; she had never had a gown like that before, and how proud Henry would be of her appearance!

"So, Crumpet, don't ever think of me as rich. I shan't be, I'll have to screw sometimes on the allowance I'll make myself, but that's for discipline. Aunt Dove will have a nice slice of cake to make her happy—if she can be—and well, that's all, now remember I'm just the same old Toney with all her faults as of old, and too bad for anyone to love for herself, Aunt Dove says so—except you always, Crumpet. Now I'll ring for Rose to help us to dress."

"Where's your dress, dear Toney?" asked Mrs. Faber, going across to Toney's simple bedroom on which no money had been spent to embellish it.

"It's here. You see, Chum, it's only white muslin, but it's brand new and looks all right."

"Oh, Toney, much too simple, why anyone might wear that!"

"Well, I am disappointed in you! Didn't I explain quite straight I'm only Toney, and not rich, if I dressed up smart—which you know I hate any way—people would think I was rich. I believe you would like me to wear a dress of bank-notes sewed together. I did think you weren't worldly!"

"I'll try, dear, but when you make me wear such a lovely thing, though I'm only a poor clergyman's wife with three hundred a year, it doesn't seem quite——"

"It's to please me! Just for once I must have a fling, and after that I'll be as matter of fact as you like."

At this moment Rose appeared. She had been kitchen-maid, but Toney had hunted her up and turned her into a lady's maid, as Lady Dove insisted on Toney's engaging such a personage, saying her own maid had as much as she could do with her own affairs. Rose was supremely happy, but far more willing than capable, and Toney managed to do all her own toilet whilst she was getting Mrs. Faber into her dream dress. Toney had begged her uncle that they should be by themselves at Aldersfield this evening, just to seem like old times, and he had agreed, though Mr. Staines, the London lawyer, was of course one of the small party. Miss Grossman never appeared after the dinner bell had rung, and firmly refused any summons to the drawing-room after that meal, saying she had her own affairs to see after. Her ladyship had been very angry of course, and relieved her feelings by grumbling to her husband. She was discharging her wrath at him this evening before going up to dress.

"Grossman has very erroneous ideas of her duty, Evas. It's preposterous to refuse to pour out the evening tea and to take out the cards or pick up my stitches. I should never have engaged her if I could have guessed what she would be like."

"Why don't you get rid of her, Melina?"

"How aggravating you can be, Evas, you know quite well the last woman drank, and the one before was deaf and heard all awry. If I sent Grossman away, which I should dearly love to do, her successor would have a worse failing."

"Yes, most likely," he answered.

"That's just like you, Evas, you never try to help me."

"Shall I have a talk with her?"

"You have a talk with Grossman! Pray don't joke! she'd tell you to mind your own business; that woman is afraid of no one, positively no one! I wish Faber would die, and then I could have Crump back again, for then she would be penniless."

"And the two children?"

"Yes, it's really wicked of them! I should have to get them into asylums. Most provoking, ever since Antonia stepped into the house everything has gone from bad to worse. However, she is sure to get married soon for her money!"

"Did you ever think Lewis Waycott admired Toney?" said Sir Evas, hoping to please his spouse by this suggestion.

"Lewis Waycott! He's going to marry his cousin Maud. Mrs. Hamilton arranged all that long ago. But I dare say you are right, and he will throw up that nice girl for Toney's money bags. After all we have done for her—and it's entirely through me she has this money, for I told the General the plain truth about her penniless condition—I think Antonia could show her gratitude more by imitating our English manners. What's bred in the bone, I know, but she might at least pretend to be a lady."

"Pretend! You might know by this time that Toney can't pretend."

"Oh, you men are all taken with a young girl, I know! Duty goes to the wind when——"

But here Sir Evas slipped away to dress; now and then his manners failed entirely, and he did not always wait for the end of his wife's sentences. This evening, as her ladyship walked upstairs, her familiar demon provided a new torture for her. Suppose what Evas said were true, suppose Lewis Waycott fell in love with Antonia and married her and her fortune, his estate would benefit enormously, and the Waycotts would be a power in the county. "Antonia shall certainly not marry Lewis Waycott," she said to herself, "I can nip that in the bud—and I shall." Then, with a smile on her face, she rang for Rivett, who was as prim as formerly, but now she could no longer bully the companion, as Miss Grossman was fully able to keep her own position and to exact outward respect from the servants.

That evening in the drawing-room at Aldersfield, Toney's very presence seemed to shame the selfish stateliness of Lady Dove, for she had more than fulfilled the promise of beauty, though of a special kind. Her face was radiant, and her beautiful hair seemed to crown the perfect outline of her head. Her very simplicity of dress might have been premeditated, so entirely did it harmonize with the girl whose every motion was full of life and the beauty that comes from perfect unconsciousness of self. Certainly three of the people there were secretly speculating what fortunate man would win Toney's heart. At present her heart was given to humanity, and had never experienced the personal feeling which may make or mar perfect womanhood, but which never passes without leaving its trace.

Mr. Staines made a formal bow to Lady Dove and offered his arm, whilst Toney looked at Sir Evas who hesitated.

"Of course, uncle, married ladies first," and Sir Evas offered his arm to the blushing Anne Faber, but thinking of Henry she determined to make the most of herself, and Toney would be close by, besides, abroad she and Sir Evas had become most friendly, and this was a wonderful transformation. Mr. Staines was so attentive to Lady Dove that the other three were allowed to enjoy themselves.

"Are the preparations all ready, uncle? Did you see if the big barn was finally swept out, and if the rose wreaths were finished?"

"I assure you, Toney, I've worked myself to death."

"And did you send out all the invitations I wrote?"

"Every one. I got Barnes and Jones to take them round a week ago. I only hope your scrawls were readable!"

"I thought they would like it best, a personal invitation is much better, isn't it?"

"What did you say, Toney?" asked Mrs. Faber.

"Miss Toney Whitburn will be much delighted if Mrs. Spratt will come and have a dinner and dance on October 28th, at Aldersfield House. Dinner punctually at six o'clock, family included—babies taken care of."

"But you'll have all the village!"

"All uncle's people, of course. Won't it be fun! Uncle and I planned it all weeks ago. Didn't we, dear?"

"You planned it, Toney, and I said yes. I know my duty!"

"But you were as excited as I was. You know you were! I do wish my dear General were here. Do you think he and Pups will look on?"

"Well, I expect—— I shouldn't wonder," said poor Sir Evas, whose ethics of the world beyond were very hazy, "or, perhaps they can see a long way off."

"Pups said that there were no real lines of demarcation in nature, but, of course, you would not want everybody who's dead to crowd in. It's just a puzzle! The cook is excited too. Oh, Chum, I've ordered the dinner as I'm going to pay all expenses, and you'll see. It took a good deal of planning, but I didn't tell uncle all that, I was just a bit afraid he'd split on me."

"I'm as dark as the grave, Toney!" said Sir Evas laughing, "but I must say I shall be glad when it's over. One never knows with you——"

"Are we all to dance together?" asked Mrs. Faber.

"At first, but there's a ball in the big drawing-room for the people who don't care about the tenants, only they won't be half so lively. Mr. Waycott's promised he'll be at the opening of my ball, and Dr. Latham, and, of course, you and uncle. I don't think Aunt Dove will care. She says poor people are not odoriferous. It comes from their clothes being rather old. I wished we lived in the days of Henry IV., when every poor man had a fowl in his cooking-pot."

"A fowl wouldn't go far with Charles Pipkin and his family," said Sir Evas, "it did all very well for the Frenchies."

"It is fortunate girls only come of age once in their lifetime," Lady Dove was saying. "When I was young it meant a young lady was fully formed and educated, and her manners were irreproachable; I fear we can't say that of Antonia, Mr. Staines."

"All in due time, Lady Dove," was Mr. Staines' guarded answer.

"Really how horribly Grossman has arranged these flowers, and taken all my best roses too," exclaimed her ladyship. "You were much more successful, Anne Faber. It seems a pity you can no longer use your talents."

"My husband is passionately fond of flowers, we always have some on the table," murmured Mrs. Faber.

"Indeed! It's a pity flowers are not edible. Mr. Staines, how is Captain Stone. He is another eccentric creature, and has not been to see us for a long time, but he asked for a bed to-morrow."

"He told me of his intention. He was very fond of his brother."

"The General's will must have been a bitter pill to him," said Lady Dove smiling.

Mr. Staines saw clearly that it was Lady Dove who had swallowed the pill, and replied politely,

"I know that the General asked his brother's consent, and Captain Stone thought all his brother did perfect."

"Indeed! men are so deluded, I mean the old ones of course. Lewis Waycott, our neighbour, is fast turning into the same kind of man. He has become quite the farmer, don't you think so, Evas?"

"What, my dear, Lewis Waycott? Yes, certainly, excellent fellow; sees after his cottages now, and is quite a model landlord."

CHAPTER IV.

VERY EARLY.

Toney was alone in the little bare simple room which had been hers on her first arrival at Aldersfield. She sat down on the window-sill with Trick in her arms, and she looked back with wonder across the five years' interval since her arrival. She remembered the terrible homesickness that had seized her in the stifling atmosphere of Aldersfield, but God had made her paths smooth for her since then, and now He was going to give her the great responsibility of wealth. She did not feel the burden as much as an older woman might have done, for besides possessing the courage of youth, her mind was not complex. Her great ideas were simple enough after all—to give good times to all the needy people she came in contact with. That had been her father's creed, and that should be hers. She had yet to find out that even this creed is not nearly as simple as it appears at first sight. Toney's prayers were never very lengthy, but they came from her heart, and before she got into bed she laughed softly to herself as she examined a sheet of paper on which was written,

"Toney's time-table, on her twenty-first birthday," thinking of the old time-table that had brought her into so much disgrace with Lady Dove.

This one had to begin early, for it was St. Simon and St. Jude's Day, and before anyone but underlings were about, Toney stepped out of the house and began running across the park as if she were running for a wager, Trick panting after her. She had to be in time for the eight o'clock early service, which Mr. Hales, despite small encouragement from his flock, never omitted on Saints' Days. Lady Dove said it was ridiculous of him to have these early services, as she never went to them. Mrs. Hales, Silvia, and an old servant, these formed all his congregation, till just as he was about to begin, Toney entered, panting audibly.

"Where two or three are gathered together there am I in the midst of them," thought the Vicar, and was not discouraged. When the others hurried home, Toney still remained on her knees, till suddenly Trick pattered in to remind her that he was waiting for her, and Toney took the hint.

The Vicar was also waiting for her outside.

"Oh!" exclaimed Toney with her radiant smile, "that is kind of you, I wanted to see you so much."

"Many happy returns of the day, Toney," he said, holding her hand, then very simply he added, "I have been praying for you." The Vicar was not ashamed of mentioning his prayers—had he not been ordained to prayer, and was it not his duty to wear his colours as bravely as did his former pupil?

"Thank you. I know you mean it! and you're not thinking of the money, are you? Everybody will be to-day, but I want to tell you that I'm going to have a fling just this week, so don't scold, and after that—I'm going to be as wise as Solomon. Honour bright!"

The Vicar smiled.

"Well, Toney, what's the fling?"

"One thing I'm doing the dinner and the dance as it should be done. Aunt Dove wouldn't hear of—things I wanted, so I begged for a free hand. You are all coming, aren't you? And Dr. Latham will be there, and he's helped me ever so much, and Mr. Waycott is awfully nice, and I've got my Chum. Oh, you don't know how different she is. You'll pay her special attention, won't you, Mr. Hales? She is really quite clever now, it's Mr. Faber's doing, they read together every day a good book and a literary book. I call that a real union, don't you?"

"Some wives wouldn't thank their husbands for educating them."

"You won't talk five minutes with Mr. Faber before he mentions something wonderful about his dearest Anne. It's real sweet!" and Toney laughed for joy.

"Come in to breakfast, Toney, and see mother and Silvia."

"I can't, thank you. I must get back; Uncle Evas wants a lot of supporting to-day, because Aunt Dove is not very—happy in her mind."

"By the way, Toney, has that surprising distribution of letters last night anything to do with you? Silvia said she saw two men going round. She thought at first it was the Insurance people who are always wanting to bury babies, but then she recognised your friend Jim, and an Aldersfield gardener."

Toney laughed.

"I would have liked to see our friends open their letters! Oh, Trick, be quiet, he thinks you haven't taken any notice of him. Then, oh please, do tell me if Thomas has been happy with his wife? The children look nicely cared for anyhow."

"Yes, that marriage turned out very well. I only hope you will——" The Vicar paused.

"I know, 'make a good use of your money.' Don't please. Mr. Staines and Uncle Evas have both tried to preach little sermons on that text."

The Vicar had not thought of the money, but he let it pass with a smile as Toney continued,

"I want to tell you that I put my first cheque in the bag this morning; it's for the sick and needy, and you know them best, and anyone else who wants it. Pups used to say it's much better to reform people with happiness than with reproaches. You agree, don't you? Now good-bye, and come early. Oh, please make friends with Miss Grossman. It's real difficult."

Toney was gone like a sudden cyclone, and the Vicar stood and looked after her. A little sigh escaped him, and then he walked home to his breakfast. Before he could reach it, however, he was waylaid by Thomas' wife.

"Oh, sir, Thomas he sent me to ask you, sir, if it was a mistake. Mrs. Smith, next door to me, she's had the same, and Culver too."

"What is it?" asked the Vicar, taking the envelope presented to him.

"It's in it, sir, if you don't mind, and do you think it's a mistake?"

"What mistake? Oh——" He understood as he read the note in Toney's writing,

"DEAR MR. AND MRS. THOMAS,

"Please spend this little present just as you like. It's a birthday treat to myself, and come in good time to the dinner and dance.

"Your sincere friend,

"TONEY WHITBURN.

"P.S.—Tell the children they shall have a separate room and can make as much noise as they like."

"The children is so excited, sir, they wouldn't eat their victuals yesterday, but Thomas says he's sure it's a mistake."

"In what way, Mrs. Thomas?"

"Well, sir, the sovereign I mean, a whole sovereign. And it's the same to the others. We didn't want no money from Miss Toney, but it do seem just a nice surprise."

The Vicar unfolded the silver paper and saw the golden sovereign with his own eyes. He had heard Toney was rich, but this beginning appeared lavish and was it wise?

"I don't think it's a mistake, Mrs. Thomas."

"Thank you, sir. Thomas he wouldn't hear of spending it till I'd asked you, and he do say how he'll keep the coin, but I says Miss Toney tells us to spend it and it wouldn't be honest not to."

Mrs. Thomas had already mentally spent it, and could not at all agree with wrapping up the gold as a keepsake.

"Certainly, she means you to spend it. You must all come to do her honour to-day. If we could all think of other people instead of ourselves as she does, our village would be none the worse!"

"Thomas thinks no end of her after what she did for him, sir, he wouldn't go the public now as he used to do if you was to pay him to go, all along of Miss Toney. Thank you, sir, I'll tell Thomas."

In another moment the Vicar met his own gardener, who lived in a cottage close by.

"If you please, sir, Miss Toney sent me a sovereign. Is it all right, sir, for me to accept it?"

"She has made no favourite, Turner, every villager on her uncle's estate has the same, I believe."

Mr. Hales returned home with a smile on his lips.

"Mother! our madcap heiress has sent a sovereign to each of her uncle's cottagers. I don't know what other surprises we shall have this evening." Mrs. Hales shook her head.

"The old General ought to have secured some controlling power for her."

"She will pauperize the village," said Silvia, who was still pretty, but had now a little discontented expression on her face, and the reason was that Captain Nichols, a young penniless officer who admired her, and whom she loved, would not come forward, as he could not make up his mind to give up his own extravagances. Without owning it to herself, Silvia was jealous of the once despised Harum Scarum. Silvia's younger sister had boldly faced poverty, and gone to be a lady nurse, but was coming for two days at Toney's special request.

"When you get a present of a sovereign, Silvia, are you pauperized?" said the Vicar smiling.

"It isn't often I do!"

"I think we may safely say Toney will not repeat this surprise."

"Of course it is easy to be generous when you have heaps of money! I wonder how much Toney has got," and Silvia heaved a little sigh.

"I rather pity her," said Mr. Hales gently. "Lady Dove never says a kind word about her, at least to me."

"I think Toney likes her inferiors best," added Silvia. "I hear Mrs. Faber has come to stay at Aldersfield. She must remember the time when she was only the poor companion."

"We none of us received her very kindly," remarked the Vicar, cutting some bread, and then Silvia gave a quick glance at her brother's face. Was it possible that he admired Toney? If he married her and her fortune, what great things might he not achieve for himself and his family! Silvia determined to say nothing more against Toney. Vague possibilities which she would have been ashamed to own aloud flitted through her mind.

"Anyhow, she is very, very generous, and I mean to enjoy the ball," she said in quite a cheerful voice.

Mrs. Hales was opening her letters and exclaimed suddenly,

"Really that child! Listen! dear boy."

"MY DEAR MRS. HALES,

"I always remember your kindness to the wild colt you allowed to come to your house. It was awfully nice of you, and I don't want to do anything horrid in return, but it would give me so much pleasure if you would buy your ball dresses out of this cheque. I know you are not rich, because Aunt Dove paid you for teaching me, but I know you and Mr. Hales would have done the same for me for nothing. I don't want to feel to-night that anyone is the poorer for my birthday party. Please accept my little present and don't be proud about it. Just for to-morrow I'm having a fling. There's several little things I've heard you say you wanted, but it's nicer to get what one likes oneself, isn't it? Will you find something Mr. Hales would like. Every now and then Pups bought me something just ridiculously beautiful, so that he might have the pleasure of seeing me wear it, but really these surprise presents were rather a trial to me, as he didn't know what girls appreciated. Please think of me when you say your prayers to-morrow, as this money will give me a lot of trouble, but I don't mean to funk it.

"YOUR AFFECTIONATE TONEY."

"What is the cheque?" asked Silvia eagerly. She noticed that her name was not mentioned. Toney was too honest to thank those who had disliked her.

"A hundred pounds. I cannot refuse it, it will help us so much; there's a new drawing-room carpet that I was puzzling how to get!" The Vicar laughed.

"Is that a ball dress, mother? Has Silvia a nice dress this evening, we must all look our best!"

"Both the girls will look nice, but this money will make my conscience easy. I had been thinking I was extravagant."

"I'll go and meet Amy at the station," exclaimed Silvia. "We can pay her journey now. Oh dear, money is useful, however much Frank proclaims the blessings of poverty."

The Vicar never argued with Silvia. He had often felt sorry his pretty sister could not have more advantages, and he knew all about Tom Nichols and the hopelessness of the love affair.

"We will give Toney a return of cheerful spirits," he said. "I shall go down early to Aldersfield with Waycott. We have consulted how best to help her. I believe Lady Dove pretends to know nothing about it all. Why can't people recognise their blessings?"

"Lady Dove's present blessing is Miss Crossman. You told me to make friends with her, but I really could not. She told me she preferred her own company when her duties were over, and she did not like to encroach on her walk and rest times," said Silvia.

They all laughed.

"I wonder if Toney will break that crust of ice," said Mrs. Hales thoughtfully.

"Artificial ice is impenetrable!" was the Vicar's answer.

Then they all went their various ways, but there was a warm glow in each of their hearts, though the reasons for it were different.

CHAPTER V.

PREPARATIONS.

The great barn behind Aldersfield House was the scene of much bustle and work on this eventful morning. Foremost among all the workers was Toney herself, dressed in a short serge dress covered with a big apron. She looked the picture of happiness, and even Aunt Dove's cold congratulations at breakfast had not been able to damp her spirits. Mrs. Faber was making "button-holes," whilst Toney was arranging flowers in vases with her deft magic touch to adorn the long tables. Men were putting up festoons among the dark rafters, and the brightest sunshine was pouring in at the door and windows.

"Won't it be lovely! and won't their eyes open! Gracious stars! What's this?"

A large box was being wheeled in, and Lewis Waycott came behind it with an amused smile on his face.

"Many happy returns," he said, as Toney flew to receive him. "I've brought you some flowers. I know you're particular about having the best." Two men were soon unpacking the box, and displayed a wealth of glorious blossoms, mostly exotics.

"Oh!" gasped Toney, "but—where did you get them?"

"I sent Graham for them to London. I thought your friends should see something new in the way of flowers!"

"That is awfully nice. I never thought of that. It will give them something to talk about, and I was just at my wits' end for more flowers; Aunt Dove doesn't like to denude her hot-houses, but oh, Mr. Waycott, just imagine, uncle went out very early and stole some! He did really, I saw him, but don't tell! and he sent them in as a present from Aunt Dove for my feast! I'm sure she knew nothing about it, so I mustn't thank her."

The two laughed heartily together, and then Lewis looked round at the transformed barn.

"Have you got my work marked out?"

"I should think so, but come round first and admire! Look at my birthday cake. It's all made of little cottages in sugar. It's my idea!"

"However is it to be cut?"

"You'll help, won't you? I just couldn't have got all ready without you, and your men have taken as deep an interest as our own."

"Of course, the invitation amply rewards them—— By the way, Toney, I've got a personal present for you; will you accept it?"

He dived into a pocket and brought out a small box.

Toney opened it and drew forth a locket surrounded with small diamonds, and within it was a beautifully painted miniature of Toney's father.

The girl looked up suddenly and her eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Pups!" she gasped, "how did you get it?"

"Is it like? Mrs. Faber helped me. I believe she stole an old photograph you possess, and—you see your friends are all expert thieves!"

"I shall never forget this," she said, brushing the tears away with the back of her somewhat grimy hand, "and I shall always think of you two together. I think the artist must have been just inspired. If only he could come this evening, he'd have gone round to everyone of the guests and said something jolly."

"I'll try and take his place," said Lewis a little shyly, and then he seized a hammer and nails and was soon among the rafters with the other men. Sir Evas presently made his entrance and looked round.

"Why, Toney, this will be a fairy palace! I see you have already put your aunt's flowers in water."

"Yes, and look, uncle, at these leaves with them! I used to pick up the gold leaves when I was a tiny and bring them to Pups for his poor people. I really thought they were gold; but just see what Mr. Waycott has brought! Beautiful flowers to remind me of home, and crowds of orchids for your people to talk about. Isn't it scrumptious of him? He's done the real thinking."

"Good heavens, Toney, it must have cost him——"

"Oh, uncle, if you had grand visitors you'd think nothing of it, and poor folk are just as fond of flowers as 'ristocrats, now aren't they?"

"Well, really, I have never thought about it."

"And look what he's given me," and Toney opened the locket. "There aren't many men that would have thought of it, and besides, he's going to make himself awfully pleasant to our people to-night, and, uncle, you will too, won't you?"

"In so far as in me lieth, Toney," said Sir Evas doubtfully.

"Oh, yes, you can. Have you learnt that list of names I gave you? I put them quite plain, a column for the men and women and a column for the children. It took a deal of writing to get all the names of the children, you know, so I hope you've learnt them."

"You don't write very plain, Toney!"

"Oh, that's an excuse!" laughed Toney, "let me see, what's the name of Timothy Grant's fourth child? He's your cowman, uncle, so you really ought to know his children."

"Polly," answered Sir Evas, looking grave.

"Oh! why the eldest is Polly, there couldn't be two Pollys, you know. It's Marthyann, all in one, Mrs. Grant declares, she says she 'giv it out herself to Mr. 'ales.'"

"Is Marthyann coming, Toney, and shall I be expected to recognise her?"

"They'd just adore you if you were to go up straight to her and call her Marthyann, but it won't do if you go to the wrong one, so perhaps you'd better ask me first."

"But I assure you, Toney, your list was longer than my arm; it would want a royal memory to attempt it!"

"I think I've got them all right, but Jenny Varly's eldest boy is Tommy Varly, and John Todd's second boy is Tommy Todd, and they are cousins, and as like as two peas, and I do sometimes mistake them! But, uncle, there are no drones here, as you aren't very handy with your fingers, can you hold that box of nails for Phil Smith?"

"Well, for a few minutes. I've a lot to do this morning, and Mr. Staines is still requiring my services, and your new secretary is coming to-morrow, and your aunt is rather upset because the gardeners are all here, and——"

"I've left her Miss Grossman," answered Toney laughing, "she's a host in herself, and she told me she didn't hold by spoiling poor people! Why it's just the poor we ought to spoil! Don't you think so, uncle?"

Sir Evas pretended not to hear as he did not want Toney to bring up his remarks against him at some future time. He knew this was an inconvenient habit of hers, so he slipped out of the barn as soon as he could when she wasn't looking.

The workers went on with all speed. All had to be done by five o'clock when the guests would begin to arrive.

"I suppose you have had to hire the knives and spoons," said Lewis, coming down for a moment to contemplate his work.

"Yes. Uncle said I could have all the kitchen things, but—I—didn't want them, and Aunt Dove wouldn't hear of her plate being unearthed, so I've hired it all."

"Not real plate!"

Toney nodded.

"Yes, just real silver, and everything like lords and ladies, won't they be pleased? Something to remember!"

"I hope it won't disappear, Toney!"

"How can you suggest anything so unkind! You see the children have the other barn, and Mrs. Faber undertakes them. A child is always good with her. Isn't it odd? Do you see that Mr. Faber is hard at work there now with her? I shall want to cut myself in three pieces! Oh, I am so happy!"

Lewis glancing at her face did not doubt her happiness, but he could not echo the speech. Before Toney had become an heiress, Lewis had fallen in love with her, he had made her promise to give him something when he should ask for it, and then suddenly this terrible fortune had dropped down from the skies, and had set up a wall of division between him and the girl he admired as well as loved. No girl in his estimation could approach Toney in all the qualities he so much respected; he knew she was not a highly accomplished English young lady, she did not move with rhythmic beauty, she did not sing like a syren or play like Chopin, but she was just Toney, with splendid health and beauty of her own, and with a character which influenced nearly everyone that came in contact with her. Lewis knew that it was owing to her that his cottages were now in perfect repair, and that he now deserved better the name of a good landlord than he had done before. It was Toney's influence, Toney's example of doing her best for her neighbours with all her heart, that had awakened his conscience, and yet the Waycotts were very proud of their good name. He could not bear that it should be said he had married the heiress for money—and he knew Lady Dove would say it. Would the world believe that he had loved the wild colt who had first visited him with the poor companion? Toney had said herself people would want to marry her money, how should he be able to prove the contrary? Why had the old General ever taken a fancy to her?

He had not, however, to-day much time for thought, he could not even flatter himself that Toney connected him in the least with that kind of love, she was certainly heart-whole; would the awakening ever come, would blindfolded Cupid by chance let one of his arrows pierce her? Lewis could not answer this question. If only he might woo her, he thought that perhaps he could awaken the sleeping boy, but there lay the difficulty; he could not, he dared not face the bare idea of Toney's thinking and of saying—for she seldom hid her thoughts—

"Oh, it's only my money you care about!" He must wait, and in the meantime what if someone bolder or less scrupulous won her!

As Lewis hurried to the hall to pick up some possessions before going home to lunch, he came face to face with Lady Dove.

"I've been helping to decorate," he said, to account for his presence.

"It is very kind of you, I'm sure, Mr. Waycott, though it was quite unnecessary to trouble you. Antonia is most thoughtless; I can't get a man or a boy to do anything to-day. She has got them all."

"They look uncommonly lively over it."

"I daresay, anything is better than one's plain duty. However, it will be over to-morrow." Lady Dove heaved a sigh.

"It's very kind of you to keep open house," said Lewis, not knowing what to say.

"I don't wish to get credit when it's not deserved. Antonia will pay for it all. The General left her a great deal of money, you know."

"I suppose so," said Lewis, screwing his stick round on the gravel.

"Yes, indeed; I don't quite know how much, because my poor husband has done nothing else these last four years but attend to all this wretched money. I assure you I never could get any of his company, and somehow he was fortunate in some land speculations, which he never was with his own."

"Sir Evas said he would quite miss the occupation."

"Well, I for one shall be glad for him. He looks ten years older. It's perfectly ridiculous to wear yourself out; and he never gets a penny by it, of course. He is quite morbidly particular about money. He always says he never would have married me if I had been an heiress. He does so hate that modern habit of heiress hunting."

"I don't think anyone would think Sir Evas was paid for his kindness."

"There are so many evil tongues, Mr. Waycott; one hears such extraordinary things. Already I've had two or three names mentioned to me as likely to pay court to Antonia—for her money, of course."

"It will be certainly a bar to disinterested affection," answered Lewis. He would like to have used his stick on Lady Dove's head. She smiled graciously.

"I have seldom met such a thing, Mr. Waycott. I shall be very much interested when I do! Poor Antonia must not expect to meet it, for certainly she has not charm or beauty to attract a man simply for herself."

"Good morning, Lady Dove. I must hurry off. My aunts will be waiting."

"Tell dear Mrs. Hamilton that I shall expect her to take pity on me this evening. Good-bye; so kind of you to have come."

Lewis hurried home in no enviable mood, and he slashed the unoffending hemlock heads with savage fury, wishing he were inflicting punishment "on that old cat."

"She meant me to understand her insinuations, of course. Well, she need not be afraid. Of course I saw through her; I'm not a blind ass."

CHAPTER VI.

REAL SILVER.

When Lewis Waycott entered the dining-room of Waycott Hall the same people were seated at the table as on the memorable day when Toney had rushed in late to luncheon. These were his devoted Aunt Honoria and her widowed sister, Mrs. Hamilton, who was somewhat of a "soft pussy cat," as Toney had once described her. Her two daughters, Jeanie and Maud, were still unmarried, much to her disappointment. Jeanie played first violin at amateur concerts, and Maud, with less talent, stepped into the breach when somebody had failed. The sisters belonged to the large army of musical people whose performances are just not good enough to be valuable, though Jeanie had real talent. Maud was pretty and gentle, but both sisters had imbibed their mother's pride of birth, all the greater because of their poverty. Mrs. Hamilton was a Waycott of Waycott Hall, and her husband belonged to a very old Scotch family. They might be poor, but they were of the bluest blood, and because of this Jeanie had ruined her happiness. Four years ago a musician who was "nobody in particular," except that his genius had raised him to eminence, had fallen in love with Jeanie and had made her an offer, but the Hamilton pride prevented her saying yes. She did not even dare tell her mother she loved him. How could Jeanie Hamilton marry a man whose parents had once kept a shop? It was impossible! The ghost of that shop haunted her, even though Frank Weston had long since pensioned his parents. Certainly the great people idolized Frank Weston, crowds filled any hall where he chose to play his violin, but how could Jeanie Hamilton accept his parents? Mrs. Hamilton gently smiled as she said, "Impossible."

Frank Weston was not poor, for he earned a great deal of money, but he was born a plebeian. Mrs. Hamilton had repeated and dictated Jeanie's refusal for her, and he had not even the satisfaction of seeing again the girl he worshipped. He had, however, guessed the truth, and, deeply wounded, he made no further effort to win her, but he could not forget her. On her part, Jeanie was always arguing the question with herself. Of course her mother had been right, but as time went on the girl began to realise that she had thrown away her happiness. Her heart was breaking and her health was giving way. Maud, too, was as soft wax in her mother's hands, and Mrs. Hamilton meant her to marry her cousin Lewis, and to be the mistress of Waycott Hall. She had taken the girls to Dresden to finish their musical education, but now she had come back intending to marry Maud to Lewis and find a suitable match for Jeanie. When Aunt Delia determined to do something she was seldom known to fail, but she never mentioned it to her sister Honoria, because she was so supremely happy as mistress of Waycott Hall that she did not wish her beloved nephew to marry anyone—at least, not yet, though of course the time for marriage must come some day, in order to carry on the succession of the old family of the Waycotts of Waycott Hall.

"How late you are, dear boy," exclaimed Miss Honoria, who, knowing every expression of her nephew's face, saw he was not in his best mood.

"I am sorry, Lady Dove hindered me a few minutes."

"It's most good-natured of you to go and help at Aldersfield," said Aunt Delia softly. "Maud offered to go, but Antonia Whitburn said she had enough helpers. I expect she prefers masculine help."

"Naturally, for standing on high ladders! The barn will astonish you, Aunt Delia. Already it is like fairyland, and imagine, Aunt Honoria, Toney has hired real plate for the poor people's dinner."

"Lady Dove would not lend hers, I expect," said Miss Honoria.

"Of course she would not! Imagine the expense though, and it will be all on the same scale. Toney sees no difference between poor and rich."

"It shows how unfit she is to deal with money," said Mrs. Hamilton decidedly. "It is a real misfortune that old man left her his money."

"Yes, it certainly is," echoed Lewis firmly.

"She will make a mess of the whole thing, either she will give it foolishly away, or she will be widely extravagant! She will never be like other people," continued Aunt Delia.

"Never!" echoed Lewis.

"I suppose my pale blue dress will do," said Maud, turning to her mother.

"You look sweet in it, dear, don't you think so, Lewis?"

"Why Maud looks well in everything," said Lewis, cheerfully nodding at his cousin. "Well, I must soon be off again. Here's a list of things Toney wants you to lend her, Aunt Honoria."

"Yes, certainly," answered Miss Honoria, for she secretly admired Toney, though she dared not let her sister know this. It was a pity Delia was so much prejudiced against this girl.

"How foolish of you, Honoria—if your things get stolen you can't blame anyone but yourself. Are you willing, Lewis, if so, Maudie will go with you and help to carry the things?"

Lewis did not want Maud, but could not refuse.

"I shall tire Maud for I am walking."

"Oh no, I shall want some fresh air before the dance. How hot it will be in the barn!"

"You girls must fill up your programmes early," said Mrs. Hamilton pointedly.

"Oh, Toney won't have any! She says people must dance as the spirit moves them."

"How inconvenient. Well, anyhow, Lewis, you'll see the girls get partners."

"No fear! Think of all the tenants dying to trip it with such fair damsels!"

"One has to pretend one likes it," said Jeanie languidly; "but it's not at all enjoyable."

"I asked Toney to let me go off with Sally the kitchenmaid, but she wouldn't agree; she says I must foot it with Mrs. Goodman, the housekeeper. She weighs two tons at least and all the men fight shy of her." Lewis' good temper had returned, and he was now ready to make fun of everything. "But there is dancing in the dining-room, too, isn't there?" said Jeanie.

"We shall dance everywhere 'till gunpowder comes out of the heels of our boots,'" answered Lewis.

"Now do be sensible, Lewis. There will be, I hear, many of the county folks," said Mrs. Hamilton, thinking that Jeanie might meet someone eligible.

"I believe so. Lord and Lady Southbourne are coming, I know, and their eldest son, and George Lathom and heaps more. Oh, the Carews, of course; I heard Lady Carew saying the other day that nothing should prevent her coming to Toney's coming of age."

"I really think it strange they all flock to a sort of party like this when they come as seldom as possible to the house at other times," said Miss Honoria.

"Honestly, Aunt Honoria, you wouldn't miss Toney's party yourself, would you, and you know you only go very seldom to call on Lady Dove."

"I declare, Lewis, you are getting as direct as Toney herself," laughed Miss Honoria.

"I know Lady Dove is shuddering as to what is to happen to-night. She says, 'you never know with Toney,' and that is a truer word than she often says!"

"I expect all this fuss and this money will turn Antonia Whitburn's head," said Mrs. Hamilton, who was jealous, but too ladylike to show it openly.

"Turn Toney's head, Aunt Delia! You little know her, I really believe she no more thinks of money as bringing her any personal advantage than she would think that—putting a crown on her head would make her a queen."

"You always were good-natured in defending poor Harum Scarum," answered his Aunt Delia; "and I'm sure she needs a few friends to do it. Mrs. Hales told me she saw no change in Toney's character in spite of all the places they sent her to in order to improve her."

Lewis laughed heartily, and then rose to go. "Well, Maud, come along, I'm off. I'll order the dog-cart to bring us back so as to have time to dress. You will all come later."

"Seeing poor people stuff doesn't interest me at all," said Jeanie; but Maud, who now always took her cue from Lewis, exclaimed,

"I should like to go early if the carriage can go, twice. I'll bring my violin and play something for them if Toney likes."

"What a good idea," said Lewis brightly. "The carriage can certainly take us early and go back for the lazy ladies."

"Please don't kill yourself, my dear boy," said Miss Waycott with a smile. She was torn between the pleasure of seeing Lewis happy and interested, and the fear of her sister Delia thinking her very foolish. It is never easy to hunt with the hounds and run with the hare.

As the cousins were crossing the Park (having had special though private permission from Sir Evas to come that way whenever they liked) Lewis was smiling to himself.

"Poor Toney," he said presently, "I believe she will regret even the terrible days of her first arrival at Aldersfield. This beastly money will swallow up all her time, and Sir Evas has dug up an Australian secretary for her. I hope he'll not be too much of a cad."

"It will be like a novel, and he'll fall in love with her and marry her," said Maud. "She would like an Australian, and he would understand her strange ways."

"Perhaps; but I haven't heard that the Australians are less self-seeking than other people. I think Toney is a rara avis."

"It does seem a little hard on Lady Dove to have fallen on this rare bird!" said Maud, laughing softly. She was so pretty and womanly that Lewis noticed her with pleasure. He liked Maud much better than Jeanie, who always looked discontented, but the idea of marrying either of them had never entered his head.

"It was awfully nice of you, Maud, to think of playing to Toney's people. I'm sure she will be delighted, but don't waste your pity on Lady Dove!"

"The new companion is a tyrant, I hear; I want to see her. Mother thinks it rather silly of Toney to make such a fuss over Mrs. Faber. It will make her very uppish. That class of people, mother says, never can stand much notice."

Lewis laughed aloud.

"Pray, Maud, form your own opinions and don't quote those of other people. Use your eyes to-day, and see what the Fabers are like. Mrs. Faber has developed so wonderfully you would not know her for the same person, though she is still somewhat afraid of Lady Dove, which is not surprising. That woman is simply odious."

Very soon they reached Aldersfield, and Lewis conducted his cousin to the barn where he had worked so hard. The preparations were drawing to a close, and at that moment Toney herself dashed out with a hammer in her hand.

"Why, Toney, you look like Sisera going to do the deed! Is there anything I can get?"

"Oh, you'll do for audience beautifully, I was just going to fetch Mrs. Horner, but she is dreadfully busy. It's to hear Uncle Dove rehearse his speech. We've put up the platform for him and all, and now he declares he can't make a speech—but he must. Now do, Maud, you'll represent the ladylike portion. Poor uncle is so shy, and only says 'Hum, hum!'"

They entered the barn, where Sir Evas was indeed looking supremely unhappy.

"Oh, Waycott, I'm glad you've come. Toney declares I must make a speech and it's quite beyond me!"

"Oh yes you can, dear, ducky uncle. Just say something that you really mean out of your heart."

"That they won't make themselves ill with over-eating!"

"Oh, that's horrid, you wouldn't say that at your own table—but look, Mr. Waycott, what do you think of the whole?"

"Oh!" exclaimed Maud, "why it's too beautiful for them, and everything silver, and, oh, what lovely silver dishes!"

Lewis gave Maud a little nudge; he knew this speech would be like gunpowder to Toney.

"Too beautiful! Of course not! How can anything be too beautiful? Aren't these flowers exquisite, Mr. Waycott? That was all your doing."

"But it's like a grand dinner party," urged Maud.

"And so it is, a very grand dinner party. Do you see the little roses, and the napkins folded like lilies? The servants have just been awfully nice over it all, and the button-holes are ready for the men and a little posy for the ladies. I'm just a wee bit afraid about the children, but Chum says I'm to trust her."

"May I play something for them on the violin?" asked Maud eagerly.

"Oh, how lovely, yes; but—not one of your long fugues, please. Something they'd all like, just a brisk jig or imitation of bagpipes."

Maud looked upon herself as a good player, but she nobly hid her disgust.

"I see, a good stirring dance."

"Yes, just at first, something that will unloose their tongues, and that they can talk all through it till the dance begins. Now, Uncle Evas, it's your turn. You must practise your speech. Mr. Waycott, just sit there to represent the men, and Maud will do the stuck-ups, and I'll do the women. It must suit us all, uncle. You can just say how awfully glad you are to see them, and that Toney Whitburn is too, and that—no, I'll make my own, you'd go wrong."

Happily for Sir Evas a footman entered at the moment, and announced that Lady Dove said would Sir Evas go at once, and see her on business.

CHAPTER VII.

THE VISITORS ARRIVE.

"What is the programme?" asked Maud, catching Toney's enthusiasm.

"Uncle Evas, and any of us who like, will sit down to dinner here, then, when they are well started, we shall go to dine in the house, and hurry a little to begin the dancing here. Poor people do like having plenty of time to eat, so I think we can manage it all."

"When is Sir Evas to make his speech?"

"Just between their meat and pudding. It will help them to digest, and they do like to hear speeches, so I'm going to make one, and anybody else who feels moved. Won't you, Mr. Waycott?"

"But they are not my tenants, Toney."

"But they are your neighbours, and we ought to love our neighbour as ourself."

"I expect my people will be very jealous!" answered Lewis laughing.

"Then you can have a party of your own. I'll come and help you in return."

"That's a promise, but I don't know what Aunt Honoria would say!"

"Oh! My visitors are going to—— No, I won't tell you as you might let it out to Aunt Dove. Uncle Evas gave leave, but——"

At this moment Sir Evas walked in, followed by Lady Carew.

"Oh! what a fairy palace!" exclaimed her ladyship. "Where is Miss Whitburn? I've come to beg you to let me see all the fun, but I didn't expect this! My husband is coming later, but I rebelled."

Lady Carew's face was all smiles. She had never forgotten Toney's first tea-party at Aldersfield, besides the story of Toney's fortune and her coming of age was known to everyone for miles round. Toney gave one of her quick searching looks and settled that Lady Carew meant all she said.

"Well, that is nice of you! You haven't come because I've got such a heap of money! Oh dear! Uncle Evas, I do believe I see somebody arriving in the distance."

Sir Evas looked too.

"Good heavens, Toney! it's the avant garde. Much too early!"

"But you are glad they should enjoy themselves as long as possible, aren't you, and you said you wanted them to see your house, and you know—— Did you tell Mr. Diggings!"

"Tell him what, Toney?" whispered Lewis, who was prepared for a surprise.

"That the house is open to everybody to-day! Fancy, Lady Carew, ever so many of uncle's tenants have never been in the house at all! So now Uncle Evas has been awfully kind, and said Aldersfield should be thrown open, only——"

Sir Evas had hurried off.

"Only what?" laughed Lewis, who had jumped to conclusions.

"He wouldn't tell Aunt Dove, so I want my friends to act as sentinels at her door! and we must all take parties round. No one is to see this fairy palace till six!"

"Doesn't Lady Dove know?" asked Lady Carew smiling, "pray let me personally conduct as I have never seen all the house either. I know there are fine pictures."

"Well, no, Aunt Dove doesn't know. She would just have squirmed a bit at seeing so many of them all about. I've just run round to open all the doors, but I posted a warning near Aunt Dove's door. Oh, I do hope she is safe for a long time. She said she was going to rest, and Miss Grossman is reading to her."

Maud and Lady Carew could not help laughing.

"Won't they do funny things?" asked Maud "You know, Lewis, your aunts wouldn't let your tenants roam about the house!"

"I'm afraid Toney will insist, but please let it be in the summer-time."

"It would be nicer for them, but I couldn't help my birthday, could I? Just look down the drive, it's getting black with people. I'll run round here first. Mr. Waycott, will you see if the children's room is done, then we must all work and just talk and explain everything, and please, Lady Carew pretend you know them all as there isn't time to introduce."

In another moment there was a scuffle and rush round, which Trick seemed to think, judging by his barking, was done specially to amuse him, and then at the open front door and on the top of the stone steps, Toney, Trick, and their special friends might be seen with very smiling faces, standing to receive the first batch of visitors, though looking down the drive the stream seemed continuous and thick. It must be owned that the guests were very quiet and very shy, and the procession resembled a funeral much more than the beginning of a most novel party. Never had half the visitors come so near the big house, but then never had they been invited. They all clutched their invitation cards as if they were talismen. Toney had stationed the young footman at the bottom of the stairs to receive the cards, but there the first hitch occurred.

A very sheepish labourer in his very best clothes shook his head as the footman held out his hand to receive the card.

"'Tis only to show you, young man," he said in a loud whisper.

"Will you kindly give it to me," was the answer. "I have to collect them."

"No, that you b'aint, I'm a-going to keep it; I've promised my lad I'll frame it for 'im."

The second guest seeing the difficulty refused even to show his card.

"We be a-going to frame it too. If you can't a-read it just to get the name in your head, I can't help you no further."

"Miss Whitburn said they were to be collected."

These two rebels had stopped the stream, and Lewis, seeing something was happening, dashed down to the rescue.

"Afternoon, sir; the young man wants my card of invitation from Miss Toney herself. I'd rather not come than give it to 'im."

Lewis was convulsed but soon set matters right.

"Pray keep them, but just show them as you come up. Miss Whitburn is waiting up there for you."

"'T'aint likely we'd give it up to he," said yet another visitor, casting looks of contempt on the footman who had tried to steal their precious cards.

The children, open-mouthed, clung to their parents, but the Thomas girls had been put first as they knew Miss Toney so well.

Up they came, men, women, and children, all sizes, dressed in varied costumes, and all staring hard at Toney, who, in her simple morning dress, was beaming with pleasure, and her eyes seemed to dance with glee.

"How do you do? How do you? Oh, Mr. Grant, it is good of you to come with your lame foot. Mrs. Chapman, the children are to go to their big room straight, lots of amusements for them, and they'll be well taken care of. Lady Carew and Miss Maud Hamilton have come to entertain you. Oh please, Mrs. Curtis, do shake hands (Mrs. Curtis was curtseying). What a lovely nosegay! How kind of you. Now, Miss Hamilton, will you take the first party round the house. There are about thirty here," and Maud went off.

"How do you do? This is nice of you to come. You're to go round the house anywhere except in Lady Dove's room, she's got a headache or something."

"Shan't we hurt the carpets, miss, with our boots?" said a patient looking woman, "and here's some of our last roses, miss, for your birthday. I'm sure we all wish you a very, very long life."

"Thank you ever so much," and Toney was already holding an arm-full of very tight posies. "Now, Mr. Waycott, will you take the second party. Show them my little room at the top of the house for they can see the tops of their cottages and chimneys from there. Sir Evas is coming soon. He had to see a bit to everything. Dinner's very punctual at six, so please don't stop too long."

Lewis Waycott obeyed. He had come there to obey to-day, and it was no good to think of shyness with Toney there. She was really happy with these people, and could not have been condescending to them had she tried. These poor cottagers, whose dull lives were seldom varied, were to have a real good day, and enjoy themselves, that was the idea that filled Toney's mind. Her one anxiety was the fear that Lady Dove would wake and come forth. At last the stream left off and only a few stragglers appeared. Toney was keeping the last batch for herself, and the children were now safely housed in the barn house, listening spell-bound to a ventriloquist with Mrs. Faber in charge. She was indeed happy, there was a great affinity between herself and children. The tea-tables were spread, and the enjoyment of the little ones was doubled by secret glances at the good things which would soon find their way down their throats.

"Hulloa!" called out the ventriloquist, putting his head up a chimney, "are you there, Bill, why don't you come down? I say, what's to day?" "A coming of old age." "You silly, not old age, a coming of age." "Whose coming?" "Well, it ain't my coming, for I ain't a-coming for anyone"—and so on till the children clapped and shouted, for suddenly Miss Toney herself appeared like a sudden burst of sunshine, and stayed ten minutes making fun.

"Oh, Chum, aren't they happy?"

"I should think they were," echoed Mrs. Faber.

Yes, the children were happy and tea followed very soon, and after tea a conjurer, and then the children were all fetched home by the neighbours from the other half of the village or by elder girls. After this Mrs. Faber slipped away to get ready for the dinner and the dance.

In the meanwhile the multitude of fathers and mothers were tramping round the great house with wide open eyes and cautious feet. To walk on Turkey carpets and look at the beautiful pictures and china the gentry looked at every day, was a new experience. It must be said that Toney's party had a real treat, because she did showman in a very amusing style.

"It must be nice, miss, to live in such a wonderful house," said a poor woman whose home was not a thing of joy.

"It's a job to keep it clean though," said Toney, "for my part I'd rather have a wee cottage if I had the work to do. I used to keep our cottage nice, and I would rather be you for that, but I guess if we can't keep a cottage nice we should make a poor hand at keeping a big place like this spick and span."

"Don't seem worth while, miss, to spend time on our poor places."

"Oh, but it is. Pups used to say that a cottage was the most healthy place in the world if the doors and windows were always open to let in God's sunshine, and if God's sunshine found no dust when it did get in there. I'll tell you what, Mrs. Smith, we'll start a society for the brightest cottage in uncle's part of the village. I'll give a beautiful prize for the best kept and you must win it."

"Oh, miss!" exclaimed Mrs. Smith of the sorrowful countenance, "the children do dirty things so."

"But they'll want you to win the prize. We'll have a model village, never fear. I'm first-rate at cleaning kettles and can teach you." Mrs. Smith began mentally scrubbing at once. Toney had another question to answer.

"If you please, miss," said a labourer, nodding towards a picture representing nymphs dancing, very scantily clothed, "it must be a warm country where ladies have so little clothing on for dancing. I suppose 'tis the fashion there." Toney laughed.

"Oh, they are not real people, the artist just wanted to think of the spirit of the wood. He means to represent all the happy thoughts one has in a lovely lonely wood."