“Yes, yes; I should like that much better,” said poor Chris, who saw that she had been made the instrument for worrying the stout lady to the verge of apoplexy. “Make me of use in any way you like, as long as you don’t want me to go on the stage.” And so the incident ended in a discussion of the dresses, and in choosing the subjects to be illustrated. CHAPTER XII. AN ALARM. The next two days were days such as Mrs. Graham-Shute loved, full of bustle and confusion, and needless noise. She herself went out early in the morning to call upon the Brownes, and to enlist them in her service as foils to Lilith’s charms. The Brownes saw through her motives, and discussed them among themselves in the frankest manner. But they were ready for any fun that might be going, as people in the country are, and at least they could go and laugh at her, which was the usual reason privately given for the acceptance of one of Mrs. Graham-Shute’s invitations. In the meantime, as she had shrewdly expected, all the real work was left to Chris, who had to search through old wardrobes, devise costumes, and decide upon all the arrangements necessary for transforming the deserted barn into a comfortable and draught-tight theatre. Here Mrs. Graham-Shute was too modest even to make a suggestion. “I’m quite sure, my dear Miss Abercarne, that you are quite equal to seeing to all these little matters. Of course, I couldn’t undertake to do _everything_ myself.” So Mrs. Graham-Shute went to call upon the Brownes, while Chris and her mother worked and tired themselves out at home. As for Lilith and Rose, they simply washed their hands of the whole affair, and contented themselves with begging Chris not to work so hard, and not to worry herself. “Mamma was always doing these things, and people were used to the way in which she did them.” Lilith occupied herself solely with her own costumes, with which she required a great deal of help, and which she thought were the only things that anybody need trouble themselves about. Rose was completely apathetic, and made no offer of assistance; and she was of very little use when persuaded to lend a hand. All this Chris would not have minded much if the attentions of Donald had not been the last straw. Having received encouragement from his mother, he pursued Chris all day long, getting in her way, and boring her so much, that, on the second afternoon, she was at last fain to get rid of him by sending him into the town to buy tapes and buttons. Mr. Graham-Shute took refuge in the study, where he bored John Bradfield by talking politics, which his host hated. It was about three o’clock in the afternoon when a knock at the study door was hailed by Mr. Bradfield as affording a hope of release. “Come in!” cried he; and Stelfox entered. Both the gentlemen saw at once, by the disturbed expression of the usually stolid face, that something had happened. “Well, what is it?” asked his master testily.