"Well, to begin with, Vi and Di, they live with their brother, who only came into his property two years ago. It came to him through an uncle. They lived up in the north, and are thorough sportswomen—up to any larks, and make the hair of old-fashioned folk about here stand on end at their pranks. Their brother Bob is a good sort, but a little rough. You know the Hazelwoods, they're a model squire and wife, and are nothing if not correct. Eight miles distant are the Easterbrooks: he's a new-made peer, and everything about them is new—their house, their garments, their furniture, and their manners. There are two old Miss Humbers of whom I'm rather fond, they pretend they are old-fashioned and out of date, but they love to be shocked, and I and my friends do it pretty often. They have one of the loveliest gardens in the country, and of course their gardener is an autocratic tyrant. Then there is a bachelor establishment about four miles off. Two brothers, both been in the army and retired—one a general, the other a colonel. They live together; one hunts and shoots, the other gardens, and has a pet aviary. Their name is Sheringham. The parsons and doctors never interest me in the least, nor do their families, and most of my friends come down to me from town. I may as well tell you that I was a parson's daughter myself and lived in the Cotswolds before I married. I know too much about parsons and their kind to have much to do with them now." She compressed her lips rather bitterly, then laughed. "My motto is 'keep the world rolling with smiles'; nobody can say I do otherwise. But, oh dear, I have times when I long for a secretary or companion to take some of my duties from me. Just look here!" She opened a bureau, which seemed almost bursting with letters and papers. "That's a week's correspondence, and I haven't touched it yet. I sometimes want to burn the contents of my postbag before I look it through. I get such thousands of begging letters, and my friends are always worrying me with their wants!" "That is one of the penalties of wealth," said Rowena. "You can't escape its responsibilities." "Don't you hate that word responsibility? I try to be as irresponsible as I can. And if you're clever, you can always shift your burdens on to other's shoulders. Now I've talked about myself enough. Tell me what your line is. You're neither a prude, nor a rollicker." "I don't think I have ever set to work to dissect myself," said Rowena, amused. "I'm interested at present in my sister-in-law and her family, and in making two shillings go as far as five. We have never been used to economy before, at least she has not, and it takes a bit of doing. And just now I'm on the look-out for a rough pony and trap in which we can jog about the lanes, and enjoy the country." "I know the very thing for you. A farmer wants to sell one: his wife used to drive about in it, for she was lame, and now she is dead, poor thing!"