e convinced her that
he was being urged to unusual and indeed unsuitable tasks under the
immediate personal supervision of Sir Isaac.... Then from round the
corner appeared the under butler or at least the legs of him going very
fast, under a pile of shirt boxes and things belonging to Sir Isaac. He
dumped them into the nearest van and heaved a deep sigh and returned
houseward after a remorseful glance at the windows.

A violent outcry from baby, who, with more than her customary violence
was making her customary morning protest against being clad, recalled
Lady Harman from the contemplation of these exterior activities....

The journey to Black Strand was not accomplished without misadventure;
there was a puncture near Farnham, and as Clarence with a leisurely
assurance entertained himself with the Stepney, they were passed first
by the second car with the nursery contingent, which went by in a shrill
chorus, crying, "_We-e-e_ shall get there first, _We-e-e_ shall get
there first," and then by a large hired car all agog with housemaids and
Mrs. Crumble and with Snagsby, as round and distressed as the full moon,
and the under butler, cramped and keen beside the driver. There followed
the leading International Stores car, and then the Stepney was on and
they could hasten in pursuit....

And at last they came to Black Strand, and when they saw Black Strand it
seemed to Lady Harman that the place had blown out a huge inflamed red
cheek and lost its pleasant balance altogether. "_Oh!_" she cried.

It was the old barn flushed by the strain of adaptation to a new use,
its comfortable old wall ruptured by half a dozen brilliant new windows,
a light red chimney stack at one end. From it a vividly artistic
corridor ran to the house and the rest of the shrubbery was all trampled
and littered with sheds, bricks, poles and material generally. Black
Strand had left the hands of the dilettante school and was in the grip
of those vigorous moulding forces that are shaping our civilization
to-day.

The jasmine wig over the porch had suffered a strenuous clipping; the
door might have just come out of prison. In the hall the Carpaccio
copies still glowed, but there were dust sheets over most of the
furniture and a plumber was moving his things out with that eleventh
hour reluctance so characteristic of plumbers. Mrs. Rabbit, a little
tearful, and dressed for departure very respectably in black was giving
the youngest and least experi