"It won't be any trouble," said Mrs. Eames. "Gladys's aunt is nearly sure to be in the kitchen, and if so she can make the pancakes. Gladys can't or won't or both. I wish I could offer you an omelette. Beth, dear, can you make omelettes?" "I can," said Mary Lambert. "At least I think I can. Do let me try." "I used to think I could," said Mrs. Eames, "and sometimes I can, but not always. In fact generally my omelettes turn out to be scrambled eggs. That's why I think it's better to say scrambled eggs at once. Then if they do happen to be omelettes it's a pleasant surprise, whereas if I said omelettes and then produced scrambled eggs Timothy might be disappointed. Come along, Mary dear. You won't mind my calling you Mary, will you. It's so stiff to go on saying Miss Lambert when we're going to make an omelette together. You can get out the plates and lay the table, Beth. You'll find a table cloth somewhere. I'm sure Sir Evelyn would like a table cloth and I have several if only they're clean. The fact is, I never have a table cloth when Timothy isn't here. I know I ought to. So bad for Gladys when I don't." She took Mary by the arm and led her off to the kitchen. "I think," said Beth, "that I'd better go and look for the table cloth." "Wait one moment," said Jimmy, "till I get the luncheon basket out of the car and then I'll be with you. I feel sure it'll take two of us to find that table cloth." "Am I to be left alone?" said Sir Evelyn. "I don't like it. If Mrs. Eames comes back and finds me unprotected---- Perhaps the best thing for me to do would be to join the vicar in the church. Do you suppose he took the pickaxe as a weapon of defence? I feel as if I should like something of the sort." "Your aunt," said Jimmy, a few minutes later, "is perfectly priceless." They were searching in the dining-room for the table cloth and so far had not come on a trace of it. "There's a lot of go about her," said Beth. "Go! I should think there was. I only wish there was half as much in the Pallas Athene. I wonder now, if I asked her very nicely, would she come over to Morriton St. James some day and take a look at that car. If anyone could get a move on the wretched thing it would be your aunt. She'd make anything in the world hop up and run about." Chapter XIV The rehearsal in the afternoon was a success, though tiring to all who took part in it. Gladys, useless as housemaid or cook, showed that there was something she could do really well when she was turned into a messenger. Released quite unexpectedly from duties she detested, she sped joyfully round the village, summoning performers to the mouth of the cave at three o'clock. Her excited account of the ladies and gentlemen who had come from London to organise the pageant, roused fresh interest in an affair which the people were beginning to find a little tiresome.