, none of our ministers ever went such a venturesome way before,"
said the timid little old lady.

"As I do? But if _I_ had been in a buggy, Miss Barry, this afternoon, I
am afraid you would have got through supper and been near breaking up
before I could have joined your society."

"How long was you comin', then?" she asked, looking startled.

"And there's another thing, Mr. Masters," said Mrs. Mansfield; "why
_do_ the days be so much longer in summer than in winter? I asked Mr.
Hardenburgh once, but I couldn't make out nothin' from what he told me?"

Sly looks and suppressed laughter went round the room, for some of Mrs.
Mansfield's neighbours were better informed than she in all that lay
above the level of practical farming; but Mr. Masters quite gravely
assured her he would make it all clear the first time he had a quiet
chance at her house.

"And will you walk out to supper, friends?" said Mrs. Starling. "Here's
Di been standin' waitin' to call us this half hour."

The supper was laid on a long table in the lean-to, which was used as a
kitchen; but now the fire was out, and the tea-kettle had been boiled
and was kept boiling in some unknown region. Doors and windows stood
open, letting the sweet air pass through; and if the floor was bare and
the chairs were wooden, both one and the other were bright with
cleanliness; and the long board was bright in another way. Yet the word
is not misapplied. Such piles of snowy bread and golden cake, such
delicate cheeses and puffy biscuits, and such transparencies of
rich-coloured preserves, were an undoubted adornment to Mrs. Starling's
deal table, and might have been to any table in the world. The deal was
covered, however, with white cloths. At the upper end the hostess took
her place behind a regiment of cups and saucers, officered by great tin
pots which held the tea and coffee. Diana waited.

Everybody had come expecting a good supper and primed for enjoyment;
and now the enjoyment began. Mrs. Starling might smile grimly to
herself as she saw her crab-apples and jellies disappear, and the piles
of biscuits go down and get heaped up again by Diana's care. Nobody was
at leisure enough to mark her.

"Eat when you can, Mr. Masters," said Mrs. Boddington; "you won't get
hot biscuits anywhere in Pleasant Valley but here."

"Why not?" said Mr. Masters.

"It ain't the fashion--that's all."

"I s'pose you've seen the fashions to-day down at Elmfield, Mr.
Masters," sai