Here she was interrupted by a rattle of small shots, as of pebbles, on the door. She knew very well what it was. It was the knuckles of Patty, the little girl who was groom of the chambers, and head footman, and kitchenmaid, and general aid to the woman-of-all-work at the cottage. She opened the door when she had delivered this volley, and thrust in a curly head at about the height of the keyhole. ‘Please, my lydy,’ she said, breathless, ‘it’s Missis and the young lydies from the Rectory. I thought as you’d like to know----’ ‘Are they coming here, Patty?’ ‘Leastways, I think so, my lydy,’ Patty said. ‘Thank you, Patty; as soon as you’ve let them in, bring tea.’ There was no thought of closing the door to these privileged visitors. But the dress was carefully and swiftly disposed of in the big basket, which was thrust under the sofa. ‘They’ve nothing to do with your new frock,’ said Lady William, in an apologetic parenthesis. Mab, who required no apology, who had seen this little feat of legerdemain accomplished more often than she could count, required no explanation; but she did not take up any other work. Lady William, on the other hand, had a piece of knitting provided for such occasions, and was working at it as if it were the chief occupation of her life when the Rectory ladies were ushered in. Mrs. Plowden had reversed the order which ruled in Lady William’s house, for it was she who was short and stout, while her daughters were of the Plowden type, long and thin, like, and yet not like, their aunt, who was slim and tall, words that mean the same thing with a difference. The three figures came in like an army, filling the small room. ‘Well, Emily, busy, as usual?’ Mrs. Plowden said, a little breathless from her walk. ‘And Mab idle, as usual?’ she added, after she had taken breath. ‘Just as we always are, aunt,’ said Mab with a laugh, conscious of the half-finished dress. ‘You might come, now and then, to the Sewing Society, Mabel,’ said Emmy, her cousin. ‘It’s quite amusing, and it would show you how nice a quiet hour’s sewing can be.’ ‘But Mab does not like parish things--and neither do I,’ said the other, the heterodox daughter, under her breath. ‘I wonder,’ said Mrs. Plowden, ‘that you don’t set her in some way of employing herself systematically, Emily. Doing things by fits and starts loses half of the advantage. What should I ever have done with Emmy and Florry if I had not gone on in the most systematic way?’ ‘And look what examples we are,’ said Florry, as usual under her breath. ‘Haven’t we made up our minds to agree to differ on these points?’ said Lady William. ‘I am sure you had something more amusing to tell me than the way you brought up your girls and how I have spoiled Mab.’ ‘I don’t know if you will think it amusing. There was something else I had to tell you. Have you heard that Mrs. Swinford and her son have come back to the Hall?’