n the morning of the day, Toni was at the Vicarage,
laden with masses of blossoms sent from Greenriver as a contribution to
the stall.

From that moment until the hour of lunch, to which she was detained
almost by force, Toni worked like a veritable busy bee, running errands,
doing odd jobs, and, in the intervals, arranging the flowers on the
stall, until hands and feet were both weary.

Having finished the hurried and uncomfortable meal, consisting chiefly
of tinned tongue and a rather out-of-date cream cheese, Toni was allowed
to run home to change her dress; and at half-past two precisely she was
back, robed in the daintiest, filmiest white lawn gown, to take her
place with the other stallholders, in readiness for the opening
ceremony, performed, much to the delight of the entire Madgwick family,
by a real duchess.

The Duchess had little to say and said it very badly; but she was duly
applauded and presented with a bouquet by a small white-robed child,
stiff with starch and self-consciousness; after which her Grace
descended thankfully from the little platform erected for her speech,
and fulfilled the second and easier half of her duty by making the round
of the stalls and spending a strictly equal amount at each one.

By now Toni had a good many acquaintances in the neighbourhood, and was
pleased to see Mrs. Anstey smiling at her as she inquired the price of a
magnificent bunch of sweet-peas which had come from the gardens of
Greenriver.

Toni told her the price, and she forthwith bought the flowers, greatly
to Toni's pleasure, for she loved her sweet-peas and had hoped, rather
childishly, that someone nice would buy them.

As she was handing over the change, Toni summoned up courage to ask
after Miss Lynn, and Mrs. Anstey smiled.

"She is very well, thanks, and coming here, I hope, in a week or two.
She and Mr. Raymond are to be married at Christmas, as I daresay you
have heard."

"Yes, my husband told me so." Suddenly Toni blushed, remembering the
occasion of Miss Lynn's visit to her; and at the same moment, as though
evoked by some mysterious method of thought, the robust and
gaily-dressed form of Lady Martin suddenly materialized before her eyes.

Her ladyship was engaged in cheapening a bunch of yellow roses, while
Cynthia Peach was endeavouring, without much success, to point out that
their fresh beauty and scent were well worth the original price.

"I'll take them if you knock off sixpence," Lady