naffectedly glad to see Dr. O'Grady, and at once offered to
give him tea. The doctor refused the tea, and plunged into his business.

"I suppose," he said, "that you'll have no objection to presenting a
bouquet to Lady Chesterton when she comes to Ballymoy?"

"Is she coming?" said Mrs. Gregg. "How splendid!"

Before marrying Mr. Gregg she had lived in a Dublin suburb. Accustomed
to the rich and varied life of a metropolis she found Ballymoy a little
dull. She recognised Major Kent as "a dear old boy," but he was
quite unexciting. Mrs. Ford, the wife of a rather morose stipendiary
magistrate, had severely snubbed Mrs. Gregg. There was no one else, and
the gay frocks of Mrs. Gregg's bridal outfit were wasting their first
freshness with hardly an opportunity of being worn.

"Yes," said Dr. O'Grady. "She's coming with the Lord-Lieutenant to
unveil the new statue."

"How splendid!" said Mrs. Gregg again. "I heard something about the
statue, but please tell me more, Dr. O'Grady. I do so want to know."

"Oh, there's nothing particular to tell about the statue. It's to be
to the memory of General John Regan, and will be unveiled in the usual
way."

This did not add much to the information which Mr. Gregg, who himself
had gleaned what he knew from Sergeant Colgan, had already given her.
But Mrs. Gregg was quite content with it. She did not, in fact, want
to know anything about the statue. She only asked about it because she
thought she ought to. Her mind was dwelling on the dazzling prospect of
presenting a bouquet to Lady Chesterton.

"Of course I should love to," she said. "But I wonder if I could--really,
I mean."

Dr. O'Grady was a man of quick intelligence. He realised at once that
Mrs. Gregg had not been listening to his account of the statue, but that
she was replying to his original suggestion.

"It's not the least difficult," he said. "Anyone could do it, but we'd
like to have it done really well. That's the reason we're asking you."

"Don't you have to walk backwards?" said Mrs. Gregg. "I'd love to do it,
of course, but I never have before."

"There's no necessity to walk at all. You simply stand in the front row
of the spectators with the bouquet in your hand. Then, when she stops
opposite you and smiles--she'll be warned beforehand, of course--and she's
had such a lot of practice that she's sure to do it right--you curtsey
and hand up the bouquet. She'll take it, and the whole thing will be
over."

"O