e of Stella's in Huntingdonshire," Alan
explained. "We went down to see it last week."

"Oh, Alan, why did you tell him? He doesn't deserve to be told."

"Is it decent?" Michael asked.

"Awfully decent," said Alan. "Rather large, you know."

"In fact, we shall belong to the squirearchy," cried Stella, crashing
down upon the piano with the first bars of Chopin's most exciting
Polonaise and from the Polonaise going off into an absurd impromptu
recitative.

"We shall have a dog-cart--a high and shining dog-cart--and we shall go
bowling down the lanes of the county of Hunts--because in books about
people who live in the county and of the county and by with or from the
county dog-carts invariably bowl--we shall have a herd of Herefordshire
bulls and bullocks and bullockesses--and my husband Alan with a straw in
his mouth will go every morning with the bailiff to inspect their
well-being--- and three days every week from November to March we shall
go hunting in Huntingdon--and when we aren't actually hunting in
Huntingdon we shall be talking about hunting--and we shall also talk
about the Primrose League and the foot-and-mouth disease and the
evolutions of the new High Church Vicar--we shall...."

But Michael threw a cushion at her, and the recitative came to an end.

They all three talked for a long while more seriously of plans for life
at Hardingham Hall.

"You know dear old Prescott requested me in his will that I would hyphen
his name on to mine, whether I were married or single," said Stella. "So
we shall be Mr. and Mrs. Prescott-Merivale. Alan has been very good
about that, though I think he's got a dim idea it's putting on side.
Stella Prescott-Merivale or The Curse of the County! And when I play I'm
going to be Madame Merivale. I decline to be done out of the Madame! and
everybody will pronounce it Marivahleh and I shall receive the unanimous
encomia of the critical press."

"Life will be rather a rag," said Michael, with approbation.

"Of course it's going to be simply wonderful. Can't you see the
headlines? From Chopin to Sheep. Madame Merivale, the famous Virtuosa,
and her Flock of Barbary Long-tails."

It was all so very remote from Neptune Crescent, Michael thought. They
really were going to be so ridiculously happy, these two, in their
country life. And now they were talking of finding him a house close to
Hardingham Hall. There must be just that small Georgian house, they
vowed, where with a large