se the
slaughter of the fatted calf; that is to say, distribute the apparatus
of the banquet that was to welcome Mrs. Picture back. Dave demurred at
first, on the score of his maturity, but gave way when an appeal was
made to some equivalent of patriotism whose existence was taken for
granted; and consented, as it were, to act on the Committee.

"Now, don't you come running down to say it's ready, not till I give
leave," said Aunt M'riar, having misgivings that the apparatus might not
be sufficiently--suppose we affect a knowledge of Horace, and say
"Persian"--to keep the Committee employed.

"They'll be quiet enough for a bit," said Uncle Mo. Who showed insight
by adding:--"They won't agree about where the things are to be put, nor
what's to be the cake." For a proxy had to be found, to represent the
cake. Even so Lancelot stood at the altar with Guinevere, as Arthur's
understudy for the part of bridegroom.

"Do please now all sit down and be comfortable," said Gwen, as soon as
tranquillity reigned. "Because I want to talk a great deal....
Yes--about Mrs. Prichard. I really should be comfortabler if you sat
down.... Well--Mr. Wardle can sit on the table if he likes." So that
compromise was made, and Gwen got to business. "I really hardly know how
to begin telling you," she said. "What has happened is so very _odd_....
Oh no--I have seen to _that_. The woman she is with will take every care
of her.... You know--Widow Thrale, Dave's Granny's daughter, who had
charge of Dave--Strides Cottage, of course! I'm sure she'll be all right
as far as that goes. But the whole thing is so _odd_.... Stop a
minute!--perhaps the best way would be for me to read you Mrs. Thrale's
letter that she has written me. She must be very nice." This throwing of
the burden of disclosure on her correspondent seemed to Gwen to be on
the line of least resistance. She was feeling bewildered already as to
how on earth the two old sisters could be revealed to one another, and
her mind was casting about for any and every guidance from any quarter
that could lead her to the revelation naturally. There _was_ no quarter
but Sapps Court. So try it, at least!

She read straight on without interruption, except for expressions of
approval or concurrence from her hearers when they heard the writer's
declaration of how _impressionnee_ she had been by the old lady, until
she came to the first reference to the gist of the letter, her mental
soundness. Then both