ime, it was necessary to avoid any appearance of mystery, and
people were given to understand that she had passed some years with her
family in the midland town.

"And what work did you take part in?" asked her companion.

"It was a scheme of my own, mainly educational. I'll tell you all about
it, when we have time. What a lot of people all at once! Ah, it's the
2.40 train that brings them. You came by the one before? There's Mrs.
Toplady; so she isn't late, after all."

The audience began to seat itself. A string-band, under a marquee aside
from the plot of smooth turf which represented the stage, began to
discourse old English music; on this subject, as soon as they were
seated side by side, Dymchurch had the full benefit of May's recently
acquired learning. How quick the girl was in gathering any kind of
information! And how intelligently she gave it forth! Babble as she
might, one could never (thought the amused peer) detect a note of
vulgarity; at worst, there was excess of ingenuousness; a fault, after
all, in the right direction. She was very young, and had little
experience of Society; in a year or two these surface blemishes would
be polished away. The important thing was that she did sincerely care
for things of the mind, and had a mind to apply to them.

He sat on Miss Tomalin's right hand; on her left was Mrs. Toplady. The
humourist of Pont Street, as she listened to the talk beside her,
smiled very roguishly indeed. Seldom had anything so surprised and
entertained her as the progress of intimacy between May and Lord
Dymchurch But she was vexed, as well as puzzled, by Lashmar's recent
step, which seemed to deprive the comedy of an element on which she had
counted. Perhaps not, however; it might be that the real complication
was only just beginning.

"As You Like It," was timed for a couple of hours, intervals included.
Miss Tomalin did not fail to whisper her neighbours at every noteworthy
omission from the text, and once or twice she was moved to a pained
protest. Her criticism of the actors was indulgent; she felt the value
of her praise, but was equally aware of the weight of her censure. So
the sunny afternoon went by. Here and there a spectator nodded
drowsily; others conversed under their breath--not of the bard of Avon.
The air was full of that insect humming which is nature's music at high
summer-tide.

Upon the final applause followed welcome refreshment. A table laden
with dainties gleamed u