steps of the terrace--Stella, I'm
afraid the concert platform has taught you the value of effect; and
where do hounds meet to-morrow?"

"We're simply loving it here," Stella said. "But I think the piano is
feeling a little bit out of his element. He's stiff with being on his
best behavior."

"I'm hoping to get rather a good pitch in Six Ash field," said Alan.
"I'll show it to you to-morrow morning."

The butler came in with news of callers:

"The Countess of Stilton and Lady Anne Varley."

"Oh, damn!" Stella exclaimed, when the butler had retired. "I really
don't think people ought to call just before Christmas. However, you've
both got to come in and be polite."

Michael managed to squeeze himself into a corner of the drawing-room,
whence he could watch Lady Stilton and her daughter talking to Mr. and
Mrs. Prescott-Merivale.

"We ought not to have bothered you in this busy week before Christmas,
but my husband has been so ill in Marienbad, ever since the summer
really, that we only got home a fortnight ago. So very trying. And I've
been longing to meet you. Poor Dick Prescott was a great friends of
ours."

Michael had a sudden intuition that Prescott had bequeathed Stella's
interests to Lady Stilton, who probably knew all about her. He wondered
if Stella had guessed this.

"And Anne heard you play at King's Hall. Didn't you, Anne dear?"

Lady Anne nodded and blushed.

"That child is going to worship Stella," Michael thought.

"We're hoping you will all be able to come and dine with us for Twelfth
Night. My husband is so fond of keeping up old English festivals. Mr.
Fane, you'll still be at Hardingham, I hope, so that we may have the
pleasure of seeing you as well?"

Michael said he was afraid he would have to be back in town.

"What absolute rot!" Stella cried. "Of course you'll be here."

But Michael insisted that he would be gone.

"They tell us you've been buying Herefords, Mr. Merivale. My husband was
so much interested and is so much looking forward to seeing your stock;
but at present he must not drive far. I've also heard of you from my
youngest boy who went up to Christ Church last October year. He is very
much excited to think that Hardingham is going to have such a
famous--what is it called, Anne?--some kind of a bowler."

"A googlie bowler, I expect you mean, mother," said Lady Anne.

"Wasn't he in the Eton eleven?" asked Alan.

"Well, no. Something happened to oust him at the last mo