Trevor; and the
Blounts at the Moat have a London niece, Lady Margot Blount, who pays
them a long visit every year. She is staying there now, and is sure to
call. She is very elegant and distinguished-looking, and we all admire
her immensely. My husband thinks her a model of everything that a girl
should be."

Ruth and Mollie, staring fixedly into the fire, were naughtily conscious
of a dislike towards the immaculate Margot, who had suddenly loomed on
their horizon as a formidable rival in the favour of the neighbourhood,
while Mrs Thornton unconsciously proceeded cheerily with her recital--

"Of course there are many more, but I am mentioning the most attractive.
We have a few young men, too, and most of the big houses have constant
visitors for shooting or fishing, so that you can manage to get partners
if you want a little hop now and then. And then, as you would suppose,
I hope you will find time to take an interest in the parish. I don't
ask you to take up any active work, for, of course, as visitors your
time will not be your own, but I should like to tell you of our various
clubs and enterprises."

"I hope you will not only tell us of them, but show them to us as well.
Uncle Bernard wishes us to do exactly as we choose, so our time is our
own, and I should like to do some work. I should feel so idle doing
nothing but enjoying myself," cried Ruth eagerly.

Mrs Thornton's smile of approval had a somewhat wistful expression.

As her husband had done before her, she looked at these two young girls,
and wondered if the time to come would see one of them acting the role
of the squire and patron, and as such holding almost unlimited power
over the parish. They seemed kindly, natural creatures, who would be
well disposed towards the vicar and his family; and a woman had more
understanding of little things than any mere man.

In the flash of an eye Mrs Thornton's mind reviewed the damp patch on
her drawing-room wall, the ill-fitting windows which let in a constant
draught; the hopeless ruin of the tiny conservatory, wherein she reared
her precious "bedding-outs."

She could not but remember that other squires not only kept their
vicar's house in order, but assisted in sending sons to college,
daughters to finishing schools, and expressed their interest in the
family in a hundred helpful ways; but Mr Farrell had seemed unconscious
of the very existence of her precious olive branches, and had never gone
beyon