Mrs. Munger would not let her interpose any idea of there being a past between them. She merely said: “You knew the Herricks at Rome, of course. I'm in hopes I shall get them here when they come back. I want you to help me colonise Hatboro' with the right sort of people: it's so easy to get the wrong sort! But, so far, I think we've succeeded beyond our wildest dreams. It's easy enough to get nice people together at the seaside; but inland! No; it's only a very few nice people who will come into the country for the summer; and we propose to make Hatboro' a winter colony too; that gives us agreeable invalids, you know; it gave us the Brandreths. He told you of our projected theatricals, I suppose?” “Yes,” said Annie non-committally, “he did.” “I know just how you feel about it, my dear,” said Mrs. Munger. “'Been there myself,' as Jim says. But it grows upon you. I'm glad you didn't refuse outright;” and Mrs. Munger looked at her with eyes of large expectance. “No, I didn't,” said Annie, obliged by this expectance to say something. “But to tell you the truth, Mrs. Munger, I don't see how I'm to be of any use to you or to Mr. Brandreth.” “Oh, take a cab and go about, like Boots and Brewer, you know, for the Veneerings.” She said this as if she knew about the humour rather than felt it. “We are placing all our hopes of bringing round the Old Hatborians in you.” “I'm afraid you're mistaken about my influence,” said Annie. “Mr. Brandreth spoke of it, and I had an opportunity of trying it last night, and seeing just what it amounted to.” “Yes?” Mrs. Munger prompted, with an increase of expectance in her large clear eyes, and of impartiality in her whole face. “Mr. Peck was here,” said Annie reluctantly, “and I tried it on him.” “Yes?” repeated Mrs. Munger, as immutably as if she were sitting for her photograph and keeping the expression. Annie broke from her reluctance with a sort of violence which carried her further than she would have gone otherwise. She ridiculed Mr. Peck's appearance and manner, and laughed at his ideas to Mrs. Munger. She had not a good conscience in it, but the perverse impulse persisted in her. There seemed no other way in which she could assert herself against him. Mrs. Munger listened judicially, but she seemed to take in only what Mr. Peck had thought of the dance and supper; at the end she said, rather vacantly, “What nonsense!” “Yes; but I'm afraid he thinks it's wisdom, and for all practical purposes it amounts to that. You see what my 'influence' has done at the outset, Mrs. Munger. He'll never give way on such a point.” “Oh, very well, then,” said Mrs. Munger, with the utmost lightness and indifference, “we'll drop the idea of the invited supper and dance.” “Do you think that would be well?” asked Annie.