riends coming, or letters to write, or
something--at any rate she was quite sure she was engaged. Mrs.
Ogilvie's manner always became doubly polite and charming when she
ignored the customary formalities of society or purposely travestied
them. No one could infringe social conventions with more perfect good
manners. Peter would go, of course, she said. Peter enjoyed eating
luncheon in snatches while he hopped about and waited on people; but
Mrs. Ogilvie preferred her meals at home.

The canon was disappointed; he loved getting the right people together,
and he knew that Mrs. Ogilvie's rare appearance in the neighbourhood
always made her a centre of interest at a party. He protested
playfully against her decision until a certain lifting of Mrs.
Ogilvie's eyebrows made his desire for her presence sound importunate,
and put an end to his hospitable pleadings.

'A charming woman,' protested the canon to himself as he walked down
the long avenue of Spanish chestnuts. 'A charming woman,' he repeated,
for one part of Canon Wrottesley always felt snubbed when he had been
talking to Mrs. Ogilvie, while the part of him called the man of the
world recognized something in her which this country neighbourhood
could not produce. His boyishness was quenched for a moment, but it
revived at the sight of Peter riding up to the gates of the park. An
invitation to the proposed merry-making was given to Peter, who was
ever so much obliged, but thought Canon Wrottesley had forgotten that
the 24th was the day of the races.

The Sedgwick Races, although perhaps not important from a sportsman's
point of view, were attended by many visitors, and had been so long
established and so generally approved by every one in the county that
they had come to have a certain local status. They were patronized by
clergy and laity alike, to whom the occasion was a sort of yearly
picnic. The racecourse itself was not large, but its surroundings were
in every way attractive. The short moorland grass made excellent going
for the horses, and a wood of beech trees, quite close to the modest
grand stand, had by right of prescription been tacitly assigned to
various county families who brought their lunches and teas there, and
whose long trestle tables, numbered and allotted by the stewards of the
course, were a favourite meeting-place for the whole neighbourhood.
Canon Wrottesley could hardly pardon himself for having forgotten the
date of such a notab