"You're too good for the post," said Mrs. Burke, putting her hand on her shoulder affectionately. "I shall pretend you're a sort of daughter, but daughters nowadays wouldn't do their mother's dirty work, would they? Oh, I'm delighted to have you. There's something so restful and dependable in your face, and you do enjoy a joke! I hate these stuffy solid folk who open their eyes widely, and think one a lunatic if one indulges in a bit of fun. Good-bye, if you must go, and I'll give you the second best spare room; it's sunny, and bright, like yourself." Rowena marched home feeling she had burnt her boats, and wondering why she had such pride of heart as to mentally squirm at the thought of her future. "An empty purse and high head don't harmonize," she said to herself. "I must consider that I'm benefiting one of my fellow-creatures by becoming one of her dependants, and I shall have a chance of getting beneath her outer crust. There's something I don't understand in her composition. She's too sensible to be so frivolous." When Mrs. Arbuthnot was informed of Rowena's plans, she was very perturbed and vexed. "I have a great mind to refuse to go to mother. What shall I do without you? It's cruel of you! You're like a bit of Ted left to me—and the house is big enough for you, and mother would be charmed to have you." "It can't be done," said Rowena firmly. "Ask me to pay you a visit sometimes." "Oh, if Mrs. Burke gets you into her clutches, she will never let you go! I wish you had never met her. She's like an octopus for drawing all the best into her nets. I cannot see her attractiveness. To me she's thorough bad style, and you'll lead a most rackety life, and will never be able to call a moment your own!" Rowena could not comfort her. Happily, there was so much to do and arrange that it took away her thoughts from their parting. She arranged to go to her mother before the wedding, and the little house was dismantled and bare within the prescribed fortnight. Rowena was the last to leave it, and when she eventually drove off to Minley Court in the car sent for her with her luggage packed up behind, she felt as if this second rooting up of her life was a very black and gloomy performance. But she arrived at her new home with a cheerful countenance. She found Di and Vi Dunstan with Mrs. Burke. "We feel so deadly when the hunting is off," said Vi. "Mrs. Burke is our only cheer. We are trying to concoct a few new games for her next garden-party. Come and help us with your wit!" "You're going to have diggings here, aren't you?" questioned Di. "Good for you. I'd like the job myself." "Miss Arbuthnot's job is not going to be an easy one," said Mrs. Burke with her jolly laugh. "She's going to supply all my deficiencies, and run me and my household in a more orthodox fashion." "Oh, dash orthodoxy!" cried Vi. "How I loathe the word, as bad as conventionality and propriety, and all the rest of the prudisms and prisms!"