"Maybe not. A man-body never kens what goes on under his nose, though he'd be keen enough to find out if anything went wrong. It's the day I clean my candlesticks and brasses. They don't go on shining by themselves, whatever ye may think." "Candlesticks and brasses!" George Elgood repeated the words with gloomy emphasis, fixing the speaker with reproachful eyes. "Candlesticks and brasses! And you put such things as those before _me_, and the first--one of the first, favours I have ever asked! ... A big plum cake, with almonds at the top, and a round of shortbread; it seems to me a most moderate request. There's not a soul in the inn who will notice a shade of extra polish on the candlesticks to-night, but they will all bear me a lifelong grudge if I don't give them enough to eat. Have you ever been to a picnic where you were expected to be satisfied with bread and butter, Miss Vane?" Margot's shake of the head was tragic in its solemnity. "Never! and I don't intend to begin. I know where we can get some fruit, at any rate, for I heard the woman at the grocer's shop saying that she had raspberries to sell. That is far easier than sending over to Rew, and I'd be delighted to take a basket and bring back all I can get. While Mrs McNab makes the cakes!" Mrs McNab sniffed again, but vouchsafed no further answer. Mr Elgood's face brightened, and he cried eagerly-- "That is kind of you! Raspberries are very nearly as good as strawberries, and it would be splendid to get them so near at hand. I-- er--" he frowned, with a momentary return to his old embarrassment--"I will come too, and carry the basket, for we must hope to have a fairly heavy load."