"What picnic?" observed Waveney, absently. She was at that moment regarding with great satisfaction the new spring dresses that had just come from the dressmaker's. They had been bought with her own money; and the pretty hats, and smart boots and gloves, had all been provided from her quarter's salary, and, although Mollie had at first refused to allow Waveney to spend her money on her, she was soon persuaded that any shabbiness on the part of his young _fiancée_ would be distressing to Mr. Ingram's feelings. "You know he likes people to be nicely dressed," Waveney had remarked, rather severely, "so please don't be foolish, Mollie. Surely"--in a pathetic voice--"you won't begrudge me this last chance of buying clothes for my sweetheart?" And what could Mollie do after that, except hug her silently, in token of yielding? "What picnic?" returned Mollie, indignantly. "Why, our long-promised visit to Brentwood Hall, of course, to see dear old King Canute in the picture. Moritz says he has arranged everything with Miss Althea. I am to have a day's rest at the Red House, and on Thursday we are to go." "But Miss Althea is always engaged on Thursday," objected Waveney. "She has her Porch House evening." "Oh yes, I know," retorted Mollie--she was fairly glowing with excitement and happiness--"but Miss Althea says she doesn't mind being absent for once. We are to drive down to Waterloo, and Moritz will meet us there, and it is only an hour's journey by train. Moritz says that his sister has promised to join us at luncheon. I was just a wee bit frightened when he said that; but he assured me that she would not be the least formidable. She is very tall, Waveney, and very plain--at least, strangers think her so; and she always calls herself ugly, but he was sure I should soon love her. 'Gwen is the dearest girl in the world,' he went on, 'and Jack just worships her. Jack Compton is her husband, you know.' Oh Wave, I do hope she will like me." "Of course she will like you," returned Waveney, with comfortable decision. "I would not give a fig for Mrs. Gwen if she had the bad taste not to admire my Mollie. Well, I hope it will be a fine day for Moritz's picnic, and then we can wear our new dresses. But, Mollie dear, are we really to have luncheon at Brentwood Hall? I thought Moritz said his friend was away, and that only servants were there?" "Yes, but he says he and Lord Ralston are such close friends that he has _carte blanche_ to do as he likes. He is Viscount Ralston, and he is very rich. Moritz says he has over thirty thousand a year. He seems to have very grand friends," went on Molly, rather thoughtfully. "I am afraid they will look down on me, a poor little lame Cinderella."