and creep out.
Under such circumstances it was, as she expressed it, difficult to
"settle down." The housemaid was thinking of her young man. Teresa was
considering her scheme of decoration. Major Mallison and Mary were
resignedly sitting it out. For the prayer everyone rose and knelt down,
but the mental attitude remained unchanged. They rose once more with
sighs of relief.

After breakfast Teresa dusted the drawing-room, made her own bed, and
hung over the banisters listening for the moment when her mother should
begin telephoning orders to the tradespeople, when she herself might
leave the house without fear of further questioning as to the blue
blouse. She expanded her shoulders with a sigh of relief on reaching
the open air, and sped along the quiet road with the feeling of escape
which every member of the Mallison household experienced when the gate
was safely closed, before a shrill recall had sounded from door or
window.

Teresa's thoughts that morning were occupied as many another daughter's
have been before her, in pondering the astonishing problem of her
parents' youth. Father and Mother in love! Father ardent, Mother shy!
Father and Mother exchanging love glances; engrossed in one another's
society. Could such things be? And if so--lacerating thought!--_could
they be again_? In thirty years' time could Teresa and Dane...

Teresa flushed violently. She had not prayed at Family Worship. She
had been frankly and emphatically bored, but she prayed now, walking
along the public road, in her blue coat and fashionable jam-pot hat, she
lifted her eyes to the grey skies, and the voice in her heart cried
earnestly: "I'll make him happy! Help me to keep him happy! Give him
to me, and make me a good wife." A glow of tenderness softened the hard
young eyes. "Make me good," cried Teresa, "_For Dane's sake_!"

She was the first to arrive at the church, before even the Vicar's wife.
Was she not the honoured young worker, to whom had been entrusted the
decoration of the east end? A mass of daffodils, wallflowers, and
primroses lay banked in baskets along the aisles. These were the
contributions of the poorer members of the community, the villagers and
owners of small gardens. Outside the chancel rails were ranged rows of
growing bulbs in pots, hyacinths, narcissus, the finer variety of
daffodils, great trumpet-like heads of white and cream, orange and gold.
These were the first contribution from the C