Miss Briskett's knitting-needles clinked irritably together. A half concession was little better than none, and the frivolous tone of Cornelia's remarks spoke of something far removed from the ideal repentance. Apart from the question of the tea-party, she disapproved of two young girls driving about the country unattended, but her courage shrank from the thought of another battle. She dropped her eyelids, and replied icily-- "As you have already made your arrangements it is useless for me to offer any objections. You are evidently determined to take your own way in spite of anything I can say. I can only trust that no harm may come of the experiment." CHAPTER SEVEN. On Thursday afternoon at three o'clock Cornelia retired to her bedroom, and with the help of the devoted Mary proceeded to make an elaborate toilette for the drive. Those wonderful trunks seemed to contain garments suitable for every possible occasion which could arise; for every fluctuation of weather, for every degree of festivity. From one of the number out came a long driving coat, snowy white, light of texture, an ideal garment for a warm yet dusty summer's day, which being fastened down the side by huge pearl buttons, displayed a degree of smartness nothing short of uncanny in an untrimmed garment. To wear with the coat there was a jaunty cap, and a pair of driving gloves with wide, gauntleted cuffs. Cornelia made faces at herself in the glass as her custom was the while she arranged the "set" of her hat, puffed out her shaded locks, and affably cross-questioned her attendant on her private affairs. "Mury, how's your friend?" "He isn't so well as he was, miss, thank you all the same. He's been a bit upset in his indigestion." "Think of that now! Isn't that sad! You buy him a bottle of physic and send it along. I'll pay! It's not a mite of use having a friend with indigestion. He'll be just as doleful, and you want him to give you a real good time. ... How's your mother getting along?" "Nicely, thank you, miss. She said she didn't know how to thank you enough for the shawl. Her poor old bones haven't ached half so much since she's had it to hap round her of a night." "Isn't that sweet! Hustle up now with my high shoes, and don't mind buttoning in bits of flesh as you did last time. I'd just as lief be left out. See here, Mury, I want everything put back in its place after I'm gone! I hate to find a muss when I get back, and that blue muslin has got to be pressed out for to-night, and those bits of lace washed, and the parcels changed at the shop. Mind, it's got to be all done by the time I am back. And see here, next time you go out to meet your friend, there's that taffetas waist you can have for yourself! You'll look dandy in it, and he'll be so proud. Maybe it will help the indigestion better than physic."