around her at the very plain but useful garments worn by her family, her
husband in faded grey flannel trousers and a cricketing shirt, Helen and
Mary in the simplest blue cotton, and Jeremy in his two-year-old sailor
suit. She had intended to bring their bathing things in a bundle,
but now she put them aside. It was obvious that the Le Pages had no
intention of bathing. She sighed and foresaw a difficult day ahead of
her.

It was evident that the Le Pages did not intend to come one step farther
into Cow Farm than was necessary.

"Dear Mrs. Cole, on a hot day--how can you endure the smells of a
farm... such a charming farm, too, with all its cows and pigs, but in
this weather... Charlotte darling, you don't feel the heat? No? Hold
your sun-shade a little more to the right, love. That's right. She
was not quite the thing last night, Mrs. Cole. I had some doubts about
bringing her, but I knew you'd all be so disappointed. She's looking
rather lovely to-day, don't you think? You must forgive a mother's
partiality... Oh, you're not bringing that little dog, are you?
Surely--"

Jeremy, who had from the first hated Mrs. Le Page, forgot his shyness
and brought out fiercely:

"Of course he's coming. Hamlet always goes everywhere with us."

"Hamlet!" said Mr. Le Page in his deep bass voice.

"What a strange name for a dog!" said Mrs. Le Page in tones of vague
distrust.

At last it was settled that one member of the Cole party should ride
with the Le Pages, and Mary was selected. Poor Mary! inevitably chosen
when something unpleasant must be done. To-day it was especially hard
for her, because she entertained so implacable a hatred for the lovely
Charlotte and looked, it must be confessed, so plain and shabby by the
side of her. Indeed, to any observer with a heart it must have been
touching to see Mary driven away in that magnificent black carriage,
staring with agonised hostility in front of her through her large
spectacles, compelled to balance herself exactly between the magnificent
sunshade of Mrs. Le Page and the smaller but also magnificent sunshade
of the lovely Charlotte. Mrs. Cole, glancing in that direction, may
have felt with a pang that she would never be able to make her children
handsome and gay as she would like to do--but it was certainly a pang of
only a moment's duration.

She would not have exchanged her Mary for a wagon-load of Charlottes.

And Jeremy, bumping along in the jingle, also felt the co