due
sequence cheques for Mr. Pendyce's signature; and secured receipts,
carefully docketed on the back, within an elastic band; as a rule, also,
she received a visit from Mrs. Husell Barter. From twelve to one she
walked with her and "the dear dogs" to the village, where she stood
hesitatingly in the cottage doors of persons who were shy of her. From
half-past one to two she lunched. From two to three she rested on a sofa
in the white morning-room with the newspaper in her hand, trying to read
the Parliamentary debate, and thinking of other things. From three to
half-past four she went to her dear flowers, from whom she was liable to
be summoned at any moment by the arrival of callers; or, getting into the
carriage, was driven to some neighbour's mansion, where she sat for half
an hour and came away. At half-past four she poured out tea. At five
she knitted a tie, or socks, for George or Gerald, and listened with a
gentle smile to what was going on. From six to seven she received from
the Squire his impressions of Parliament and things at large. From seven
to seven-thirty she changed to a black low dress, with old lace about the
neck. At seven-thirty she dined. At a quarter to nine she listened to
Norah playing two waltzes of Chopin's, and a piece called "Serenade du
Printemps" by Baff, and to Bee singing "The Mikado," or the "Saucy Girl"
From nine to ten thirty she played a game called piquet, which her father
had taught her, if she could get anyone with whom to play; but as this
was seldom, she played as a rule patience by herself. At ten-thirty she
went to bed. At eleven-thirty punctually the Squire woke her. At one
o'clock she went to sleep. On Mondays she wrote out in her clear
Totteridge hand, with its fine straight strokes, a list of library books,
made up without distinction of all that were recommended in the Ladies'
Paper that came weekly to Worsted Skeynes. Periodically Mr. Pendyce
would hand her a list of his own, compiled out of the Times and the Field
in the privacy of his study; this she sent too.

Thus was the household supplied with literature unerringly adapted to its
needs; nor was it possible for any undesirable book to find its way into
the house--not that this would have mattered much to Mrs. Pendyce, for as
she often said with gentle regret, "My dear, I have no time to read."

This afternoon it was so warm that the bees were all around among the
blossoms, and two thrushes, who had bui