"No." Mrs Thornton shook her head decidedly. "A formal tea is the most depressing function imaginable. If it was a little later on, I would suggest a hay-party. As it is, I am afraid it must be a garden- party, pure and simple."

The vicar laughed.

"Simple, it certainly would be. Our poor little lawn, one tennis-court, and the flower-garden a ma.s.s of weeds! We can't afford a band of minstrels, or even the ordinary ices and hothouse fruits. I am afraid it might be rather a failure, Agnes."

But Mrs Thornton refused to be discouraged.

"Nonsense, dear! People don't expect extravagant entertainments at a vicarage! The children and I can undertake the weeding, and when that is done the dear old herbaceous borders will look charming! The lawn is not big, but there is delightful shade beneath the beech-trees, and we can draw the piano up to the drawing-room window, and get a few people to sing for us--Maud Bailey and Mrs Reed; and I believe Mr Druce has a fine voice. I'll ask him to be very kind, and give us a song. As for refreshments, I can give good tea and coffee, and the best cream for miles around, and people can exist without ices for once in a way.

Given a bright, fine day, I could manage beautifully!"

"I have no doubt you could. But why go through the ceremony of asking my advice, Mistress Thornton, when your mind has been made up from the beginning? Go your ways--go your ways! I wash my hands of all responsibility!" cried the vicar, laughing, as he walked back to his study, leaving his wife to sit down to her desk and make out a lengthy list of guests, which included everyone of note for miles round.

During the days to come Mr Thornton often sympathised with his wife on the amount of work she had undertaken in order to entertain the squire's guests; but, even to his un.o.bservant eyes, it was apparent that, so far from being exhausted, she throve beneath it, and appeared brighter and younger than for years past. All work and no play has an even more depressing effect upon Jill than on Jack, and Mrs Thornton was by instinct a hospitable creature, who would have loved nothing better than a houseful of guests and a constant succession of entertainments. With small means, a large family, and a straggling parish, her time and energy were for the most part engrossed in sheer hard work, so that the prospect of a little "jollification," as she laughingly expressed it, came as a welcome variety.

The invitations to the Court were sent out first, to make sure of the most important guests, and down came the girls with notes of acceptance, and a hundred curious questions.

"Who is coming? What are you going to do? What dresses shall we wear?

Can we help?" they asked eagerly; whereupon Mrs Thornton laughed, and replied hesitatingly--

"It is most incorrect; you ought to know nothing of the make-shifts, but just drive down to enjoy the completed effect; but, yes,--I cannot resist the pleasure of your company. Come, if you like, and I'll promise you some real hard work."

"That's right; and you'll find us so useful! We have been born and brought up on make-shifts, and can make anything out of nothing, and a box of tacks--can't we, Ruth?" cried Mollie, in the brutally outspoken manner which always brought a flush into her sister's face.

It was not so much foolish shame at the fact of poverty, but the stab of painful repugnance which came with the remembrance of the bareness and lack of beauty which characterised the old life. After a month's sojourn at the Court the day of small things seemed far away, and she shrank at the possibility of returning to it as a permanency.

When Mrs Thornton began to enumerate her difficulties, and escorted the girls from one room to another to ask their advice upon various knotty points, it was like the probing of a wound to Ruth's sensitive nerves.

The house itself was roomy and well built, but in a hopeless state of disrepair. The paint was worn and dingy; the wallpapers so old- fashioned and discoloured that all Mrs Thornton's painstaking efforts after cheerfulness and beauty were foiled by the inartistic background.

"I shed tears over the drawing-room paper when I was first married,"

said Mrs Thornton, with a laugh and a shrug. "But, as one gets older, there are so many more serious things to cry over that one learns to be philosophical. I thought I might put some big, spreading branches in these old pots to cover the walls as much as possible, for we must have some rooms available in case of a shower. A wet day is too terrible a catastrophe to contemplate, so we won't even imagine it. Given sunshine and unlimited borrowing, we can struggle through. Think of it, my dears--I have invited over a hundred people, and we possess twelve teaspoons!"

Mollie gurgled with laughter in her hearty, infectious manner.

"I'd give up sugar for the day, and do without. That's one off the list. Shall we ask the butler to send down a supply? I'm sure he has hundreds stowed away in those great plate-chests."

"My dear, no! I should not think of it!" cried Mrs Thornton, aghast.

"I can manage quite well without troubling the squire. Pray don't repeat any of my thoughtless remarks to him. My husband says that my tongue runs away with me far too often."

Ruth protested politely, but Mollie preserved an unusual silence for the rest of the visit. She was evidently thinking hard, and the result of her cogitations was, that when she returned to the Court she paid a surprise visit to Mr Farrell in his sanctum.

The old man was sitting reading in his favourite chair, and as he looked up it struck Mollie that he looked more alert than she had seen him since her arrival. The voice in which he answered her greeting was certainly less wearied and fretful than usual. He looked, if such a miracle could be believed, almost pleased to see her.

"Well,--so you have returned from your wanderings!"

"Yes, here I am, come to bother you again. There's a whole half-hour before you need begin to dress, and I've something very important to talk to you about."

"What does that mean, pray? More new dresses? I should have thought you could hardly have come to the end of the last supply by this time."

"Goodness, no! They will last for years. It is something far more important."

Mollie seated herself on a low chair directly opposite the old man, leant her elbows on her knees, her chin on her hands, and said hesitatingly--

"Uncle Bernard!"

"Mary!"

"Do you remember the first evening we were here, when you spoke to us about our visit? You said that you might possibly allow each of us in turn to act as master or mistress of the ceremonies for a short time?"

"I believe I did say something of the kind. It occurred to me that it might be an interesting experiment."

"And did you mean that we could really do what we liked, about money and everything else, just as if we were really and truly the real owner in your place?"

Mr Farrell smiled somewhat grimly.

"If your sister asked me that question, I should say 'Yes.' Knowing as I do your capacity for extravagance, I am a little more cautious.

Within reasonable limits that is, however, what I meant to imply."

"Ah!" sighed Mollie deeply. "But it all depends on what you call reasonable. At any rate, you can only refuse, and things can be no worse than they are at present. Please, Uncle Bernard, may I begin my reign from to-day?"

"Your reign! You put it forcibly, my dear--more so than is perhaps quite pleasant in my ears. And you are the youngest of the four; your turn should come last, not first. When the others have had their trial--"

"But they have never asked for it; they don't want it, and I do; and you said nothing about taking turns when you made the suggestion. If you let me begin, they could take warning from my mistakes. I don't think you would find they disliked the arrangement. Do, please, be kind and say 'Yes.'"

Mr Farrell reflected for a moment, bringing the tips of his fingers together.

"As you say, you are the first to express any desire to take me at my word. If it pleases you to a.s.sume the reins of government for a short time, I have no objection."

"You mean it really? I can begin at once, and give what orders I like?"

"Subject, as I have said, to some possible restrictions if your enthusiasm carries you too far. There is evidently some big scheme looming behind this request. You had better let me know the worst at once. What is to be your first extravagance?"

Mollie's head still rested in the cup of her hands. She looked at him steadily, with a little flame of determination in her grey eyes.

"I am going to have the vicarage painted and papered from top to bottom.

It's disgracefully shabby! The paper is hanging off the walls in some places, and where it isn't, it would be almost better if it were, it is so ugly and worn. It is too bad to expect Mr and Mrs Thornton to do all the hard, depressing work of the parish and keep bright and cheerful themselves, when their home is enough to give the blues to a clown! It looks as if it hadn't been touched for a century!"

Mr Farrell lowered his eyelids and sat in a grim silence, while the clock ticked a full two minutes. Mollie, watching his face, saw the thin lips grow thinner and thinner, as they were pressed the more firmly together; the horizontal lines in his forehead deepened into furrows.

There was no mistaking the fact that he was displeased, and deeply displeased, even before the cold eyes met hers once more.

"I had no intention now, or at any other time, of allowing you to a.s.sume control over the whole parish! My proposition referred simply to this house and your own entertainment. I am still capable of looking after my own property."

"But--" began Mollie, and stopped short.

Even her courage failed before the obvious retort that the property was not looked after, but allowed to fall into dilapidation; but Mr Farrell understood without the need of words, and his eyes flashed with anger.

"You must permit me to judge for myself! When my day is over, whoever comes into possession can squander my money as he or she sees fit, but I cannot hurry the time forward, however much you may desire it. You must be patient and wait. It may come sooner than you think."

Mollie sprang to her feet with an exclamation of mingled pain and anger.