One incident of this time may not be passed over. Mrs. Eversley, after much anxious consultation with her husband, had decided that it would be ‘the right thing’ to invite her future daughter-in-law to spend a few days at the beginning of the new year in Kestercham Vicarage. It would not be true to say that the invitation proceeded from Mrs. Eversley as a matter of grace; it was rather (like so much else that she did) a matter of duty. ‘You see, my dear,’ she said to Mr. Eversley, ‘it is clearly the right thing for us to do. If she is going to be Gerald’s wife (as I suppose she is), she must come to know some day what sort of people we are, and what our life is like, and it is better she should know it before marriage than after. If she turns up her nose at our humble way of living, she need not come here any more. But I think, or at least I hope, she will do her duty as a good wife ought.’ Mr. Eversley assented to this view, though he would perhaps have expressed it rather differently. So the invitation was sent to Helmsbury Hall. Rather to Mrs. Eversley’s surprise, it was at once gratefully accepted. It was an anxious day when Ethel Venniker came to Kestercham. Mr. Eversley went himself with Gerald to meet her at the railway station of X----. Mrs. Eversley, whose culinary conceptions were circumscribed and generally resulted, on the rare occasions when she ‘entertained company,’ in doing what she was wont to describe as ‘falling back upon a hash,’ had made great preparations for receiving her in a manner not wholly unworthy of her social position. Judging by the number and variety of the provisions congregated in Mrs. Eversley’s store-room, one might have surmised that social position was marked in England by an unparalleled development of the appetite. She had ordered new dresses for herself and all the children, except the two youngest, whom it was proposed to confine to the nursery. She had persuaded her husband that the stair-carpet ‘had a common look,’ and must be renewed in anticipation of the visit. She understood that ladies of quality like Miss Venniker always brought a ladies’ maid with them, if they did not bring two, and she had made arrangements for receiving these invariable concomitants of rank, and for giving them meals suitable to their status, which appeared to be about midway between her own family and the servants. But Miss Venniker did not come attended by any retinue. She came alone, simply and quietly. Her costume was not impressive in its grandeur. She found no fault with the food. She said how much she liked the view from her bedroom window. It seemed that she was contented with everything. She went into the nursery and played with the children; she had actually brought presents for some of them. She captivated the hearts of Mr. and Mrs. Seaford by paying them a visit at the Grange and taking tea with them, and expressing an interest in agricultural matters; she even promised to accompany Mr.