But to return to The Holt after this digression. The new inmate was beginning to make her presence felt in the household, she was a ready learner, being both keen and adaptable; her aunt’s example and capabilities impressed her enormously; every day, every hour seemed to have its own particular task. Mrs. Fenchurch had a wonderful sense of organisation and routine, and never one moment to spare. Her writing-room was the nucleus of her activities; here on a neat bureau were ‘the books.’ The house books, the village books, the visitor’s book, the clothing club book, the letter book, the garden book, and last but not least--the egg book! A certain amount of this order and energy was imparted to her niece; the mistress of the house knew how to make use of capable subordinates--she would have made an efficient, though not very popular or gracious abbess--was thoroughly practical, and far-reaching--and particularly prided herself on her sense of justice! As it happened to be good hunting weather, and an open winter, she left Letty at home as often as three days a week, to act as regent, answer messages, visit the greenhouses, and the poultry-yard, attend the sewing club, and exercise the dogs. Colonel Fenchurch had suggested that his niece should learn to ride. He had even put her up on old Playboy, and taken her round the fields with a leading-rein, declaring that “the girl really had the riding flair--it was her Irish blood no doubt; she was not a bit afraid, and stuck on like a leech,” but his wife had negatived the idea with prompt decision. “No, no,” she replied; “if Letty began to ride, she’d be wanting a hunter next, and this winter has been so frightfully expensive, what with the new flues in the greenhouse, and the kitchen range, and then I must get her some frocks for Christmas and the balls. She has nothing now, but hideous German clothes--her school-room horrors--but next year,” pursing up her lips, “_perhaps_--we shall see!”