No, he could not sit by and hear Miss Aurea dissected, and with an excuse that he wanted to have a pipe before he went back to his job, the chauffeur pushed away his unfinished cheese, and with a civil farewell took his departure. The afternoon was a busy one: the mirrors were put up, pictures were hung, but with many incursions and interruptions from Miss Parrett. Joss, the dog, was also in and out, and seemed inclined to attach himself to Wynyard. Miss Parrett, still hooded, sat upright in an arm-chair, offering irritating criticisms, and quarrelling vigorously as to the position of pictures and articles of furniture; the old lady was altogether extremely troublesome and argumentative, and gave double work. Thoroughly alive to the fact that her niece had good taste, she was jealous of her activities, and yet wished to see the old rooms arranged to the best advantage--as the result would redound to her personal credit. It was an immense relief to the three harassed workers when the parlour-maid entered and announced-- “If you please, Miss Parrett, Lady Mary Cooper has called, and I’ve shown her into the study.” “You mean the library,” corrected her mistress. “Say I’m coming;” and she trotted over to a glass, removed her hood, and called upon Aurea to arrange her cap. “Time Lady Mary _did_ call!” she grumbled. “We are here seven months.” “She has been abroad,” said Susan; “and, anyway, she’s not much of a visitor.” “Well, she is our own cousin, at any rate.” “Our cousin--Lady Mary!” repeated Miss Susan. “I do declare, Bella, you have a craze for cousins. Why, we scarcely know the woman!” “Now, Susan, don’t argue! She _is_ our relative; her great-great-aunt married a Davenant, and I suppose you will allow that they are our kin? I have no time to explain now;” and she pattered off, abandoning the workers to their own devices. “Your Aunt Bella is so funny about relations! People I’ve never heard of she will say are our own cousins.” “Yes, to the tenth generation,” agreed Aurea, “if they are well born. Aunt Bella has pedigree on the brain--for myself, I think it a bore.” It was strange that Miss Parrett, who, on her mother’s side, was the granddaughter of a rough Hoogly pilot, should be as haughty and exclusive as if she were an Austrian princess. In the neighbourhood it had become a well-established joke that, if any one of importance and old family was mentioned before Miss Parrett, she was almost sure to announce-- “Oh, I don’t know much about them personally, but they are our cousins!” By six o’clock the task of arranging the drawing-room was completed. Wynyard had been assisted by the rosy-cheeked maid in bringing tables, cabinets, and china from other rooms, and they really had, as Miss Susan declared, “worked like blacks.”