He did not like so much catechism about his future plans. In the old days of his poverty he had never admired the Glyn Williams' ideals of life, and he had no wish to mould himself upon their standards. The sporting landlord, with a horizon bounded by the local meet or a county ball, was a type that did not appeal to him, and he saw no reason why he should be forced by a spurious public opinion into lines that were uncongenial. Though on the surface he and Tudor were friends, at bottom the old antagonism existed as in the days when they had quarrelled on the cliffs near Blackthorn Bower. It was only to please Mavis and Merle that he had accepted this invitation to The Warren, where he found himself in the peculiar position of being patronised in his own house. With Bevis rather gloomy and restrained, Tudor slightly aggressive, and Gwen too fashionable to trouble to entertain her old friends, matters were not as exhilarating as they might have been, and everybody seemed relieved when it was time to walk down to the Institute. "I suppose I shall have to go!" yawned Gwen. "These village concerts of Mother's are _such_ a nuisance! Why can't the people get up their own instead of always expecting her to bother with them! _I_ don't want to hear Miss Smith and Miss Brown and Miss Robinson! It bores me stiff." "Not very polite of her when _we_ are going to act!" whispered Merle to Mavis as they put on their hats. "It certainly isn't! But Gwen's always like this. I vote we try not to mind," returned Mavis heroically. The entertainment was to be given in the local Institute, which was fitted with a platform and curtain, but otherwise held no great facilities for theatricals. A large and very unruly crowd of young people were outside waiting for admission, and through these our party had to push their way to a side entrance. At the back of the platform great confusion raged. The whole of the Castleton family seemed to be trying to dress one another among a rich jumble of costumes, while Mr. Castleton, altering the poses in his tableaux at the eleventh hour, kept sending messengers home to his studio for articles which he had forgotten. "The pantry's the only place for the Ladies' Dressing-Room, and it's full of tea-cups!" said Beata, kneeling on the floor to button Lilith into a mediaeval robe that reached to her toes. "Tea-cups or no tea-cups, I'll have to use it!" said Merle. "Come with us, Romola, and mount guard over the door while we change. I'm not going to have all the parish popping in. How sublime you look!" "Very hot and uncomfortable!" sighed Romola. "I'd put on the blue costume and then Dad suddenly altered the whole tableau and made me get into this instead. Wasn't it tiresome of him? Now he's fussing about and I know we shall be late! We always are!" "So shall we be if we don't hurry up. Have you got the right bag, Mavis? Oh, here are some of Bevis's things! I must rush out and give them to him before we begin."