rs Thornton hastily
smoothed her hair as it opened wide, and Mary's eager voice announced--

"If you please, mum, a 'amper!"

"A _what_?"

The vicar and his wife pressed forward eagerly, and, lo! on the well-
worn oilcloth of the passage lay a large wicker hamper, addressed to
"Mrs Thornton, The Vicarage, Raby," and bearing on the label the name
of a well-known London fruiterer. To cut the string and tear it open
was the work of a moment, when inside was revealed such treasures of
hothouse fruits as left the beholders dumb and gasping with admiration.

There in profusion were grapes, peaches, giant strawberries of the
deepest red, pineapples,--each one more perfect and tempting than the
last, in their dainty, padded cases.

The vicar stood looking on, stroking his chin, and smiling with
enjoyment at his wife's delight, as she bent over her treasures,
exclaiming and rapturising like a girl in her teens.

"How lovely! How charming! How delightful! My fruit-table will be a
triumph! This is exactly what I needed to give the finishing touch to
my preparations! I've never seen finer fruit--never! Wallace, Wallace,
won't we be grand?"

"So grand that I am afraid the churchwardens will have serious doubts as
to the school funds," said the vicar, laughing. "I have twenty pounds
in hand at the present moment, and really--"

"Oh, don't be a goose! Of course, everyone will guess that it is a
present. I shall say so myself on every opportunity. But who from?
Who can have thought of such a thing?" Her eyes turned with sudden
questioning to the two girls. "Ruth, Mollie--did you?"

"Indeed, no! I didn't think of it, I am sorry to say!" said Ruth; and
added honestly, "I am too hard up to pay for all those lovely things!"

"And you know nothing about it, really?"

"Really and truly, not a thing!"

"You don't think that perhaps the squire--"

Mollie recalled the snubbing which she had received on suggesting the
improvements to the vicarage, coupled with the various cynical remarks
to which Mr Farrell had given utterance on the subject of this very
garden-party, and felt convinced that he was not the anonymous donor;
but these things were not to be repeated, so she remained silent, while
Ruth and Mrs Thornton wondered and speculated.

No one could be thought of more likely than the squire, for the
parishioners, as a rule, were not overburdened with money, nor the few
who were, with generosity.

"I have neve