ear and far most families possess one
relation _par excellence_, who stands out from all the rest by reason
either of generosity, aggravatingness, or strength of character.
Sometimes this relation is an uncle; more often it is an aunt; almost
invariably he or she is unmarried or widowed, because the single state
naturally allows more time and energy for interests beyond the personal
household.

The Garnetts' relation _par excellence_ was Aunt Maria--_Lady_ Maria as
they erroneously called her, being unsophisticated in the niceties of
the peerage. Her rightful cognomen was Lady Hayes, and she was the
elderly, very elderly, widow of an estimable gentleman who had been
created a Baronet in recognition of services rendered to his political
party. The Garnetts felt that it was very stylish to possess an aunt
with a title, and introduced her name with an air when the Vernons grew
superior on the subject of "the grounds." Lady Hayes was an eccentric
individual who inhabited a beautiful old country house in the Midlands,
from which base she was given to suddenly swooping down upon her
relations, choosing by preference for these visits the times when
carpets had been sent away to be cleaned, or the maids granted days off
to visit relations in the country. Then Lady Hayes would appear,
announce her intention of staying a couple of nights, declare her
unwillingness to give the slightest trouble, and proceed to request that
her maid should be accommodated with a room next to her own, and that
they should both be supplied with a vegetarian diet, supplemented by
glasses of sterilised milk at intervals of every two hours. Sometimes
the vegetarianism gave place to a diet of minced beef, but whatever
might be the diet of the moment it was invariably something which no one
else wanted to eat, and which took about three times as long to prepare
as the entire rations for the household dinner of ten.

It was at the close of the Midsummer term, when the Garnett family were
blissfully preparing for the yearly migration to the sea, that a letter
from Aunt Maria fell like a bombshell upon the peaceful scene. This
year the holiday promised to be even more blissful than usual, for the
Vernons had secured a second farmhouse, not ten minutes' walk from their
own, and connected with the sea by the same fascinating field-paths. A
farm and the sea! Could there possibly exist a more fascinating
combination? The young people sniffed in advance