tion."

She paused enquiringly, and Grizel's face fell.

"The parlourmaid too! Do they _all_ go out? Then how can one possibly
be fed? There will be nothing for it, Martin, but to go up to town two
nights a week." The suggestion would appear to have had a cheering
effect, for she flashed once more into smiles, looking round the circle
of watching faces with eyes a-sparkle with mischief. "It's such fun
trying to keep house when one knows nothing whatever about it! Like
starting out on a voyage of adventure! I have the most thrilling
experiences..."

Mrs Ritchards smiled with friendly encouragement.

"You will find it much more interesting when you _do_ understand! I
always say that to run a household, economically and well, is as
satisfactory work as a woman need ask. It's like everything else, Mrs
Beverley, the more you study it, the more interesting it becomes. I
have been at it for years, and I pride myself that there is very little
that I do not know."

"Ah!" cried Grizel deeply. She leant her elbow on her knee and bent
forward, her expression one of breathless eagerness. "Then you are the
very person I've been looking for! You can tell me something I've been
dying to know... What is your opinion about Lard?"

Mrs Ritchards gasped, the other listeners gasped also. Martin choked,
turned the choke into a cough, and became suddenly engrossed in the
china on the mantelpiece.

"Lard! Lard!" Mrs Ritchards struggled with the inevitable disability
to define a well-known article. "But surely... surely... In what
respect did you want my opinion?"

"About allowing it, of course, and if one should. Cook asked if I did,
and it seemed such a complex question, and there was an implication
about dripping--and the colour of something,--dark versus light. I got
hopelessly confused!"

Mrs Ritchards did not allow lard. "It's a question of sufficient
heat," she maintained. "If they get the dripping hot enough, it does
perfectly well. It must boil till you see a blue smoke..."

Grizel seized an ivory tablet, and made a hurried note. "Till you see a
blue smoke...! I'll bring that in to-morrow, and confound her with my
knowledge. Thank you so much. That's quite a relief." She pushed
aside the tablet, straightened her back and looked around with a bright,
challenging glance. The subject of lard was exhausted, and she was
ready to pass on to pastures new.

"Are you fond of games, Mrs Beverley?" Ter