"No," said the Admiral gruffly. "I've seen a good many of that stamp in my time." Sidney shook her head at him. "We shall see a good deal of her, I prophesy; so we will be prepared to like her." "We shan't see much of her. Ted will." Sidney said no more. She was strangely anxious to like this new arrival; but as time went on her views changed, and one afternoon she arrived at Monica's farm with a depressed little furrow on her usually smooth forehead. She found Monica in her store room, packing up some honeycomb from her bees to go to London. Sidney swung herself up on an empty shelf, and began: "Be rude to me, Monnie! I'm longing for a short abrupt brusque remark from someone. Honey is delicious, but you can get a surfeit of it, can't you? And somehow or other I've been having honey with some sting in it. Do bees ever leave their stings in their honey?" "I haven't time to talk in parables," said Monica, in her downright way. "What is the matter with you?" She did not look up from her work. Sidney watched her quick deft movements, as she slipped her cases of honey into the light packing cases on the floor, and said somewhat wistfully: "I've come over for a talk. Can't you be idle for half an hour?" "Yes, if you wait ten minutes. These must go to the station this afternoon." "I sometimes wish I had an entrancingly busy life like yours," Sidney said; "and yet I have my days filled up, only they don't seem as profitable as yours." Monica did not reply. She worked on until the cases were full; then she called one of her men to nail them down, gave him directions for taking them to the station, and, slipping off her apron, turned to Sidney with a smile. "Come into the sitting-room, and we will have tea. Aunt Dannie and Chuckles are spending a day at the rectory, so we shall be undisturbed." The sitting-room looked cheerful with its blazing fire. Outside, a grey mist was coming up from the sea; the leaves on the trees seemed to be shivering under its touch, and many were silently dropping to their death. Sidney seated herself with a sigh of content in an arm-chair by the fire. Then she looked up into Monica's face affectionately. "Be a safety valve to me! Oh, Monnie, what should I do without you! You are so safe, so silent, so busy in your world of work, that all my confidences will be safe. I have come over with the overwhelming desire in my heart to pick our new neighbour to pieces. Isn't it truly dreadful of me? Have you seen her yet?" "Her name is Mrs. Norman, is it not? She is taking milk from us. No, I have not met her." "You would like her at first sight, as I did. She's a jolly cheery-looking little woman; but, oh, Monnie, I wish with all my heart she had never come near us." Monica sat down. "Tell me all about her. Get it off your chest, and you will feel better."