"There is not a frump or a bore among them," she said. "In the country
people are usually frumps when they are not bores, and bores when they
are not frumps, and I am in danger of becoming both myself. Six weeks of
unalloyed dinner-parties, composed of certain people I know, would make
me begin to wear moreen petticoats and talk about the deplorable
condition of London society."

She led all her flock out on to the lawn under the ilex-trees after
breakfast.

"Let us go and encourage industry," she said. "We will watch Emily
Fox-Seton working. She is an example."

Curiously enough, this was Miss Cora Brooke's day. She found herself
actually walking across the lawn with Lord Walderhurst by her side. She
did not know how it happened, but it seemed to occur accidentally.

"We never talk to each other," he said.

"Well," answered Cora, "we have talked to other people a great deal--at
least I have."

"Yes, you have talked a good deal," said the marquis.

"Does that mean I have talked too much?"

He surveyed her prettiness through his glass. Perhaps the holiday stir
in the air gave him a festive moment.

"It means that you haven't talked enough to me. You have devoted
yourself too much to the laying low of young Heriot."

She laughed a trifle saucily.

"You are a very independent young lady," remarked Walderhurst, with a
lighter manner than usual. "You ought to say something deprecatory or--a
little coy, perhaps."

"I shan't," said Cora, composedly.

"Shan't or won't?" he inquired. "They are both bad words for little
girls--or young ladies--to use to their elders."

"Both," said Miss Cora Brooke, with a slightly pleased flush. "Let us go
over to the tents and see what poor Emily Fox-Seton is doing."

"Poor Emily Fox-Seton," said the marquis, non-committally.

They went, but they did not stay long. The treat was taking form. Emily
Fox-Seton was hot and deeply engaged. People were coming to her for
orders. She had a thousand things to do and to superintend the doing of.
The prizes for the races and the presents for the children must be
arranged in order: things for boys and things for girls, presents for
little children and presents for big ones. Nobody must be missed, and no
one must be given the wrong thing.

"It would be dreadful, you know," Emily said to the two when they came
into her tent and began to ask questions, "if a big boy should get a
small wooden horse, or a little baby should be given a c