that whatever might be the drawbacks of
Wynch-on-the-Wold in wintry weather, it was an idyllic spot in the month
of May. The wall-flowers which Ingred had transplanted were now in their
prime, the apple trees were in blossom, clumps of lilies were pushing up
fast, and pink double daisies bordered the front walk. The woods in the
combe below the moor were a mass of bluebells, and here and there those
who searched might find rarer flowers, orchises, lily of the valley, and
true lover's knot. Friends who had shirked the journey while the winds
blew cold, now began to drop in at the bungalow and take tea under the
apple trees. Ingred, returning home on Friday afternoons, would find
bicycles stacked by the gate and visitors seated in the garden. She
greeted them with enthusiasm or the reverse, according to her individual
tastes.

"Really, Ingred, they don't seem to teach manners at the College now!"
said Quenrede one day.

"The way you scowled at Mrs. Galsworthy and Gertrude was most uncivil.
You didn't look in the very least pleased to see them."

"I wasn't! They're the most stupid people on the face of the earth! And
they stayed such ages. I thought they'd never go. Just when I wanted a
nice private talk with you and Mother before the boys came back. Why
should you look glad to see a person when you're not?"

"For the sake of manners, my dear!"

"Then manners really mean humbug," declared Ingred, who loved to argue.
"To say you're glad to see people, when you're not, is telling
deliberate fibs. Most hypocritical, I call it! Why can't people tell the
truth?"

"Because it would generally be offensive and unkind to do so," put in
Mother, who happened to overhear. "There's another side to the question,
too. When you say--against your will--that you are glad to see somebody,
you mean that all the _best_ part of you is glad--the kind, generous
part that likes to give pleasure, not the selfish lower part that only
thinks of its own convenience. So you are not really telling a fib, but
being true to your nobler self. A great deal of what people call 'plain
speaking' is simply giving rein to their most uncharitable thoughts. As
a rule, I say Heaven defend me from those ultra-truthful souls who enjoy
'speaking their minds.'"

"But are we to gush over every bore?" asked Ingred.

"There are limits, of course. We can't let all our time be frittered
away by idle friends, but we can generally manage tactfully without
offending