Chapter III: Part 3

"There's heaps of time, uncle, screw your courage up, you know, and they will be so pleased. Remember to begin about being awfully delighted."

The many waiters stood to attention, having been duly warned, and a sudden hush fell on the company. Poor Sir Evas felt as if he were being led to execution as he found himself on the platform, this time without Toney. His speech had clean gone out of his head except Toney's two words, "awfully delighted," and that did not sound quite dignified. "Hum, hum, I'm awfully delighted--hum--to see you here to-night, but I hope, my friends, you all understand that this is my niece's doing on her coming of age. We men are rather up a tree when our female relations determine to do something, and as people rarely come of age, hum (that is idiotic), I mean only once in their lives, Miss Whitburn has had her way. I hope you'll all think it a very good way." (Cheers and thumps.)

"Never was one for speaking wasn't Sir Evas. There's folks 'as got oily tongues and some as 'asn't." This from a sympathetic old lady.

"Time's getting on (that's idiotic too), so I must say no more than I hope you will always remember this dinner, and I wish you all to drink the health of my niece, Toney Whitburn."

A great cheering and drinking of health, with a perfect clatter of glasses, followed. Toney was deeply disappointed, she had prepared such a lovely speech for her uncle, and he had declared he would say it, or "words to that effect," but he hadn't! She didn't want him to have mentioned her, but all about the guests themselves.

In another moment Toney had sprung on the platform, and then there was such a noise as never was, and simultaneously they all rose and sang, "For she's a jolly good fellow," the only known equivalent in the English language for great approval.

The words were nothing, as we know, but it was the great feeling of love which upset Toney. All her own lovely speech fled out of her head, and the view became misty. She felt as if she was far away on the Australian land and that her father was close beside her saying, "Courage, Toney, you know I hate tears." Then with the back of her hand she brushed away something that was nearly falling and took courage.

"Thank you very much, kind friends, for giving me such a jolly chorus on my birthday. I have given you a dinner such as I wish you had every day, at least, no, not quite, but I want you to remember to-day because if I were to forget it there would be ever so many of you to remind me of my duty. Without Sir Evas you wouldn't have had this entertainment, because it was he who insisted on his penniless niece coming over here, and when the dear old General left me his money to spend on other people, because he died and couldn't do it himself, well, then Sir Evas took all the trouble of it--and money is an awful trouble--and he's been helping me for weeks to arrange everything, and he really is a "jolly good fellow"---- Great stamping of feet and great shouting, as if Toney had made a tremendous good joke, and then a wild beginning again of "For he's a jolly good fellow," till Mr. Hales begged for silence, and Toney, convulsed with laughter, beckoned to Lewis Waycott and Mr. Hales to come up to her, which they both did.

"Toney, go on," said Lewis, "they want some more."

"I daren't. Uncle is fidgeting. Time's nearly up. Aren't grandees a bother? Mr. Hales, it's your turn now."

"Just wish them a happy evening," said Mr. Hales smiling.

Then Toney went a step forward, and the hubbub ceased like magic.

"I haven't anything more to say except to wish you a jolly evening and plenty of dancing after the dinner is cleared away, and oh, one thing, I want you to give a chorus for Dr. Latham, who is, as you know, the best doctor in the county. I know it because my father was a doctor, and the very best in the world. He never thought of himself, and I like people to know about Pups, who was a hero, and if you please I should like you to give a chorus for Trick, who came with me, and has been my dear friend ever since, and for his sake I hope you will be kind to all animals, as they do care and understand nearly everything--at least Trick does. That's all, and time is up."

Such a chorus followed, but this time Sir Evas was firm, and left the platform to Mr. Hales and Lewis Waycott, and led Toney forcibly down the centre of the room, though she had to seize and shake many hands on the way, promising right and left to come back and dance when the other dinner was over.

Once outside the barn, it must be told that Sir Evas and Toney raced to the house and ran up the steps just as a carriage and pair of bays pulled up. Happily, they slipped in without being seen, only when Sir Evas joined his wife in the drawing-room, he and Toney panted audibly.

"Evas, you are really too bad to be so late; Lord Southbourne's carriage is at the door."

"Yes, I know, Melina; but we are in time, so where's the harm?"

"I should have had to receive them alone if you hadn't come----"

"Lord and Lady Southbourne and the Honourable Edward Lang," announced the footman, and Lady Dove became affable.

"How do you do? How very kind of you to come. Here is the young lady who has come of age to-day. The neighbourhood has responded so kindly. Do come to this sofa, Lady Southbourne."

Lord Southbourne had never seen Toney before. The family had only lately come to the neighbourhood, but this is what he heard her saying,

"I wish you hadn't come quite so early; we were having such a nice time with the tenants, but you will come and dance presently, won't you?"

"We have all come to do your bidding," said Lord Southbourne, kindly giving Toney a bow; but his son laughed.

"We heard marvellous tales of your entertainment, Miss Whitburn," said he. "My father thinks you'll make our tenants' dinners blush in future."

"Anyhow, the people are happy," said Toney; fanning herself vigorously. "They've given us four 'jolly good fellows' already, and it's hot work, I can tell you."

*CHAPTER IX.*

*A BARN DANCE.*

The dinner party which Lady Dove had arranged was very select, with a few exceptions. She meant to reap some social benefits from Toney's coming of age in order to make up for the "most unnecessary fuss over the poor people." This evening she was quite gracious and pleasant to everyone at her own dinner table. It must be owned, too, that Toney was for the moment rather tired and sleepy, and glad to sit still and almost silent between Mr. Hales and Lewis Waycott, so that the aristocratic party were quite surprised to see only a bright-haired young lady in snowy white, behaving very decorously. Strange stories had, of course, gathered round Toney's personality, one of which was that she was a terrible Socialist, a character which, in this part of the country, almost put the owner of it out of the pale of society. But to be kind to the poor was simply a duty, and an entertainment to the tenants was a time-honoured institution which no one could reasonably object to. Of course these aristocratic people had not beheld Toney's dinner table, for they would have been truly shocked to see rare flowers and shining silver set before the lower orders; moreover, they would have felt that pheasants were eternally disgraced by having appeared on that occasion. So all went well. Lady Carew took care to tell no tales to Lord Southbourne or to her own immaculate husband, who was talking county politics with Lady Southbourne whilst the dinner took its accustomed course, now and then urged on by a side remark of Toney's to Mr. Diggings not to be too long, as the ball was to begin directly dinner was over.

"I am sure, Toney, you will be tired out," said Mr. Hales, "but even if there were no more to come you have given them something to remember."

"A real good time for them, isn't it? But they are much too grateful! It's so easy to give away money."

"But not trouble and thought."

"I'm trying to behave well, but I really can't eat much, and I feel rather sleepy! Oh, Mr. Waycott, just look across and see how beautiful Mr. Faber looks. You can't think what a good clergyman he is; those two live just like the early Christians."

"How did they live? The present time is against the simple life."

"But, you see they can do it, they are not hedged in with parks and money and Society. It's like the life at Little Gidding, when you stay with them, except they have no organ playing during their meals."

"What is the special mark of the early Christian?" asked Lewis with a smile.

"They don't seem ever to complain of being poor, and always share everything they have, it seems to me; and especially, they are so happy. Mr. Faber has a text over his fire-place, 'Rejoice always,' and they really do it. Now, Aunt Dove is never happy. You should have seen me and Uncle Evas racing here from the barn. He really raced, it wasn't make believe--and I was laughing so much when we came into the drawing-room to receive a scolding."

"Have you undertaken Miss Grossman, Toney?" asked Mr. Hales.

"Oh! no! but I do admire her; she isn't one bit afraid of Aunt Dove, and almost enjoys having words with her."

"Will you give me the first dance, Toney?" said Lewis.

"No, not the first; there are ever so many of the men who will be too shy to begin if I don't go and ask them, and they won't dare to say no! but I will have a dance with you after everyone is set going. Aunt Dove is coming to look on a few minutes, she says. Oh dear, somebody's drinking my health; I wish they wouldn't. I can't be any healthier than I am, can I?"

Lord Southbourne had risen to propose the health of the heiress, and Sir Evas seconded it with a few words of thanks.

"Shall I say thanks for you, Toney?" asked Lewis.

"Oh, no, thank you; they'll think I'm dumb," and then the girlish figure in white stood up straight and lithe.

"Thank you, everybody, very much; but I know no one would have made any fuss about me if it hadn't been for the General's money, so it's the money that ought to be returned thanks for, and I do. I know it will be very hard to give it away properly, but I mean to try; and may I ask a favour? will you all come at once to the ball in the barn, and not stop to drink wine, because the people are longing to dance, and they won't begin without us."

"My dear Antonia!" exclaimed Lady Dove, smiling deprecatingly as the company laughed, "what will our guests think? Of course, we will excuse you, and anyone who likes to follow you---- On her birthday she must be forgiven."

There was a general move, and most of the company followed Toney's white figure as she sped onward. Poor Sir Evas had risen, but dared not follow without his wife. Happily Lord and Lady Southbourne solved the difficulty.

"If Lady Dove does not mind, we should enjoy seeing the beginning of the ball," and of course, Lady Dove was "only too delighted," and now everybody followed Toney's lead.

There was no room for disappointment when the door was thrown open. The whole place had been cleared, the boards polished, one platform erected for the band and another for visitors. The wealth of flowers and wreaths made the place look more like an enchanted palace than a barn on the Dove estate. But it was not money alone that had done this, it was the loving heart of a girl of twenty-one which had planned it all.

The band struck up and the Hon. Edward Lang approached Toney.

"May I have the pleasure?"

"Of course you may; there's the bailiff's wife, she thinks no end of herself, and if you dance with her we shall hear of it for the rest of her life. Mrs. Farrant, Mr. Lang wants to dance with you, and oh, Mr. Waycott, do find someone proper for Lord Carew--unless he's too stiff. Isn't it nice of Lady Carew, she's got hold of Peter Smith herself. Real jolly of her!"

"And you, Toney, they are waiting for you?"

"Oh, anybody will do for me. There's Long Tom, he'll never get round if I don't drag him by main force. Do see that Uncle Evas doesn't forget his partner. Oh, isn't this scrumptious!"

The band began, a really good band from the garrison, and as if by magic there was--we ought to have said a poetry of motion, but to the onlooker the motion was there, though if the poetry was somewhat wanting, however, the seal of happiness was on all faces.

Lady Dove on her platform kept a few guests by her side, but very soon even these were drawn into the whirlpool, and left her alone in company with Miss Grossman, who had elected to come and look on for a short time, though as she sternly said she never danced.

"It's most extraordinary, Miss Grossman, that our guests care to dance with this mixed company."

"One never knows what people will do," said Miss Grossman in a tone of great decision, "I am never carried away."

It would indeed have been a strong, bold man who would have carried Miss Grossman away--against her wish.

"You show your common sense, because it would want strength to get a bumpkin through this quadrille. When I was young I was a famous dancer, everyone praised my figure and my deportment. Of course _young ladies_ were carefully shielded in my youth from anything like familiar intercourse with the lower orders. Good gracious, Antonia is dancing with the cowman! I see her pinning up her dress. It serves her right; but, of course, the poor girl was brought up most strangely in Australia, so all this seems natural to _her_."

"Of course," said Miss Grossman, "that accounts for a good deal. Though my family was in straightened circumstances, _I_ was brought up as a gentlewoman." This was more than Lady Dove could stand from a companion.

"It's strange how many people call themselves gentlefolks nowadays. In my youth you were in society or you were not. The Radicals have turned people's heads. We are all gentlemen and ladies _now_."

"I don't think so; there are very marked lines of demarcation even now. Of course, Lady Dove, you have _generally_ had people of the class of Mrs. Faber with you, and cannot judge what is due to----"

"How ridiculous, Miss Grossman! We are talking at cross purposes. I meant County people. There is dear Lady Carew looking quite tired out, pray go and ask her to come up here."

Miss Grossman reluctantly obeyed, and presently returned followed by Lady Carew and Toney herself, for both were coming to get pinned up.

"How distressing! Your lovely dress, Lady Carew! I always said no one should come in nice clothes to dance with----"

"Aunt Dove, you don't know how they admired our dresses! I've heard lovely remarks. Lady Carew, they thought you were just like the dove in the ark!"

"How delicious! I don't mind my dress a bit, thank you; you seem to have provided plenty of pins, Miss Whitburn, you have thought of everything!"

"Everyone has danced at least once, I've seen to it, though one man declared 'twas wonderful folks did like whirly-gigging round so much!'"

"He showed his sense," said Miss Grossman.

"I must find enough breath to dance with a few more of our men, but please rest a little, Lady Carew; you have been a real helper!"

"Then I have earned a good character from you, I'm so glad!"

Lady Dove smiled sadly as Toney disappeared, then she remarked,

"It is most good-natured of you, indeed it is. There is even Lady Southbourne talking to one of the men, so very kind of her. Things have changed very much, when I was young----"

"I am sure you never met such another as your niece!" said Lady Carew.

"Never! Miss Grossman, pray go and ask Lady Southbourne to come and rest. I insisted on having easy chairs here. Antonia would not have thought of our comfort. Bush life is not a good beginning for coming out into Society. It was a great mistake for our dear General to leave her his money."

"I don't think Lady Southbourne wishes to rest," said Miss Grossman tartly, "but I will give her your message as I go out. I dislike altering my hours."

Lady Dove would have remonstrated had not Lady Carew been close by, and Miss Grossman did not give her time to forbid her retiring. Near the entrance, however, she met Toney and Lady Southbourne together.

"You are not going yet, are you, Miss Crossman? This is ice time. We must all set an example in that line, because some of our friends are looking rather doubtfully at them."

"Excuse me, Miss Whitburn, I prefer my bed to ruining my digestion. Nothing is more indigestible than an ice at night. Good night. Lady Dove begs you will go and rest, Lady Southbourne," and Miss Grossman disappeared from this world of folly.

Toney had seized on Lewis Waycott.

"Can you swallow unlimited ices? they really are the very best; Pups always said my digestion was one of the strongest he ever knew, but----"

"Toney, we have never had our dance."

"Then let's have one now. I do love dancing, that's the only accomplishment that ever made friends with me. It's poetry, isn't it?"

Lewis thought so as Toney and he waltzed round the big barn.

"I hope you have had a happy birthday," said Lewis in a pause.

"Just about perfect. Could I have been happier, as you and the Fabers, and Dr. Latham, and uncle, and Trick are all here, and you have all been so good and kind, and then Pups' picture! All through the evening I have been putting my hand up to stroke it. It was an inspiration on your part and I shall never be grateful enough."

"I--I don't want gratitude--I--want----"

"Oh, what? Do let me give it to you," said Toney eagerly.

"It's nothing money can buy," said Lewis, smiling at the eager face. "Some day, perhaps----"

"Some day, and why not now, to-night, but I'm glad it's nothing to do with money. I heard Aunt Dove say to Mrs. Hamilton, 'Of course it's a great misfortune for the poor girl, she has not an idea how to spend money.'"

"What did you think about it?"

"Oh, to myself I just said, 'you bet!' but of course I know that's vulgar! Aunt Dove says I was born vulgar--but what do you want?"

"Nothing now, Toney. Lady Dove is--well, she wants converting."

Mrs. Hamilton interrupted them.

"Oh, Lewis, Maudie is dying for a dance." Toney effaced herself, and at that minute she came face to face with Mr. Hales.

"I've never had time, Toney, to give you my present." He took a little parcel out of his pocket. "I have had these 'Little Flowers of St. Francis' bound in white for you. I could not think of anything more appropriate. I don't think you have ever read it--but I am sure you will like it."

"Of course I shall! Yours is the only book I have had. That is nicer, because it will do instead of Pups' old book of King Arthur. That one has all come true, and it will be like a message from him to help me with this new life."

"There's a message for all of us in it, Toney. The message of love and self-denial, but I think you do understand it already."

Toney shook her head.

"No, Pups did, but I want to."

*CHAPTER X.*

*THE PATH OF PERFECTION.*

Toney's coming of age had been the greatest success imaginable, both rich and poor had declared, with perfect truth, that they had never enjoyed themselves more; but some few of them also realised that the result had been attained by weeks of thought and hard work on the part of Toney and Sir Evas. All they had gone through to attain their object was their own secret, and jealously guarded; but it drew them, if possible, closer together, and the master of Aldersfield had his reward.

It was very early in the morning before the girl bade a last good-bye to her rich friends, for the poor ones had gradually melted away about eleven o'clock, the next day's toil having to be thought of. Lady Dove had long before, happily, excused herself, pleading great weariness after such a hard day's work, and the atmosphere cleared in consequence. Toney seized her uncle and made him dance till he called for mercy, and even Mrs. Faber was not let off, partners being provided for her. Mr. Faber never danced, but waited on everybody or discussed clerical questions with Mr. Hales.

Now at last all were gone, and Toney was alone in her simple room. Even Trick was fast asleep as she knelt to say her prayers and returned thanks to the Giver of all her pleasure. The excitement had taken away her sleepiness, so before putting out her light she opened the little book Mr. Hales had given her, and at the beginning read the story of how Brother Bernard, of Quintavelle, was converted by St. Francis, whilst this latter was still a secular. Bernard wished to find out whether the young and once worldly Francis was really a saint, so he asked him to sup and lodge with him, and prepared a bed in his own room for the young man. Both pretended to sleep. Bernard snoring loudly, and St. Francis hearing this, rose from his bed and began praying very earnestly till morning, saying only, "My God, my God." But Bernard was watching him all the time, and was so much touched that he determined to change his life. In the morning he said to St. Francis that he would leave the world and follow him, but St. Francis said they must first ask counsel how to find the Path of Perfection. So they went to the Bishop's house, and begged him to open the Bible three times and see what text he found. The first was, "If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast and give to the poor, and follow Me; "and the second was, "Take nothing for your journey, neither staves nor scrip, neither bread, neither money; "and the last was, "If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me."

Bernard, being very rich, went out and sold all that he had, and with great joy he gave all his possessions to the poor.

At this point Toney's eyes began to blink, so she closed the book and put it under her pillow with a smile on her lips, murmuring, "'The Path of Perfection.' Isn't that beautiful? Why can't we be like that now? I know Pups would have liked this little book, and the 'Path of Perfection,' ever so much."

Then Toney fell asleep and dreamt that St. Francis came to ask her for _all_ her money, and that she refused it to him, saying, "You really won't know what to buy for English people, because you have only had to do with the nice, dirty Italian organ-grinders, who can live on almost nothing."

It was quite late when the house party reassembled, and Toney was the only one who showed no signs of fatigue.

She found a big pile of letters on the table. From henceforth her simple, easy life would be a thing of the past; but at present, with the unbounded confidence of youth, she faced the problem bravely.

"Is there anything further I can advise you about, Miss Whitburn?" said Mr. Staines, "for I shall be going back to London very shortly."

"Yes, please, I want some last words with you, I think we had better have a telephone between us. It will save a lot of letters. Aunt Dove, you have forgiven us, haven't you?" asked Toney. "But you are rewarded by the gratitude of the people. They just thought your house a lovely museum."

"It's a great pity to put ideas into poor people's heads," answered Lady Dove. "I hope this party will last their life-time."

"Miss Grossman was done up I suppose; it's very tiresome of her, she sent word she must stay in bed to-day. If it's influenza of course I don't want her near me."

"I do not think the poor envy luxury," said Mr. Faber thoughtfully, "they sometimes envy the certainty of our meals."

"Education creates needs," said Mr. Staines, "but I once knew a man who was perfectly happy if he had five shillings in his pocket, though he had no idea where the next would come from."

"Pups was like that," exclaimed Toney, "so it shows money isn't happiness. Aunt Dove, don't you think 'Brother Angel' would be a good name for Mr. Faber? He was one of the followers of St. Francis. He thought nothing at all about money. I read a lovely story in my new book about him when I was brushing my hair."

"How ridiculous you are, Antonia--I suppose you must go this morning, Mr. Faber, as I often tell Mr. Hales, a clergyman is nothing if he is not among his people."

Mr. Faber was still smiling over Toney's last speech and did not even notice the _sous entendu_ of her ladyship's remark.

"I am afraid I must return, but I am sure Anne would stay and take Miss Grossman's place for a day or two, if it is the least convenience to you, Lady Dove."

This was just what Lady Dove did want, but she did not wish to show gratitude.

"Oh, I daresay you could not get your meals without her."

Mrs. Faber did not allow her deep disappointment to be seen. Henry was always sacrificing himself, she must follow his example. Only Toney noted the sad look in her eyes.

"Indeed our old Martha is far more necessary to my husband than I am. She cooks beautifully."

"She must be rather wasted at your Vicarage. However, of course, Anne Faber, if you like an extra holiday pray stay. Toney will be of no use this week, and if Miss Grossman does not get better she must go home."

"Certainly I will stay," and she smiled across to Toney, who nodded her satisfaction.

"You all covered yourselves with glory I can tell you. Bully! wasn't it?"

"Antonia!" exclaimed Aunt Dove.

"Well, so it was, but when you want to forsake the world and become one of St. Francis' brethren, uncle, I'm sure he'll take you. He told one of the rich young men who offered themselves, to 'serve the brethren,' and I know you did that yesterday, so you were in the path of perfection. Isn't that an awfully nice name?"

"I don't think that sort of life would suit me," said Sir Evas smiling. "Well, I shall go and meet your secretary this morning, Toney, whilst you talk to Mr. Staines."

Toney led the way to her new sitting-room which did not feel half so homely to her as the little sitting-room at the top of the house, but she would not let her uncle see this. Mr. Staines sat down, and Toney dropped into a chair and put her elbows on the writing table, after she had thrown down a heap of letters.

"Ouf! Look at those, Mr. Staines; to think they will come every morning."

"The new secretary will sift these for you, Miss Whitburn."

"Poor fellow! Well, what I want to say is this. Have you made it quite right about Aunt Dove's money? Will two thousand a year make a difference to her?"

"Yes, a very handsome gift."

"I can't cost her that in food, can I? though I have a good appetite."

"She does not really need it."

"But I want you to arrange about the capital and give it to her entirely."

"Is that wise? Lady Dove might die and----"

Toney had on her resolute air.

"I am quite sure I want that: Uncle Evas would have it if she died, and it will be off my mind. My General would like it, I think. Ouf! that will be some of it disposed of, won't it?"

Mr. Staines smiled. This was not the usual tone of his rich clients.

"That's all now, Mr. Staines, and I want your firm well paid for all your trouble, so that I shan't mind bothering you."

"About your will, Miss Whitburn, you must send me instructions as soon as possible, you see you have the whole control, and it is not right to leave anything uncertain."

"Of course---- You mean I might have a fit or break my head. My will is soon arranged, I'll leave the whole to Uncle Evas, and tell him what to do with it in case that happens, but it's only in case, for I have other ideas."

"Of course, and you must want time to think it over. I'll draw up this simple will and get it signed before I go."

"Uncle Evas says you are an awfully honourable lawyer. I'm so glad because Pups always said it was best to avoid the man of law. However, Pups' money was so wingy that he never needed a man to tie it up."

"He little guessed his daughter would be so amply provided for," said Mr. Staines beaming with real delight, which the handling of money always gave him, even though it was that of his clients and not his own.

"No, indeed. He was always make believing about King Arthur, and now I mean to study 'The Little Flowers of St. Francis,' and 'The Path of Perfection.' St. Francis was awfully simple about money, you know. Now we have done, haven't we? Here is my will. 'I give everything I have got to Sir Evas Dove, of Aldersfield House. Antonia Whitburn.' That won't waste the time of your clerks. You quite frightened me when you sent me the General's will The clerks must have racked their brains to find odd and useless words. Thank you a thousand times. I'll call the Fabers to sign it, but it's only in case of accidents. I've got lots more notions, and Uncle Evas doesn't want money. He's really quite nice about it, only he has to give in accounts."

"To give in accounts?"

"Yes, to Aunt Dove. She holds the purse-strings, uncle says, and there's a little breeze if he exceeds."

Mr. Staines thought he had better draw a veil over this part of the conversation, and very soon Toney's temporary will was signed and deposited in Mr. Staines' pocket, who thought as he journeyed back, "I never met such an extraordinary girl in all my life."

But it does not harm even a lawyer to think for a few minutes that money is not the aim of all mankind!

It was wonderful how soon Mrs. Faber reverted to the habits of her long bondage--though now she knew it was only an interlude--for Toney found her writing notes and doing flowers and being bullied by Lady Dove, just as if the beautiful reality of her wedded happiness did not exist. Mr. Faber had jogged off home in his pony carriage, Toney promising to bring back his dearest Anne as soon as Miss Grossman was able to return to public life. Toney watched him disappearing down the park as she stood alone on the steps of Aldersfield House, and as she looked at the lovely trees now turning every shade of gold, orange, and red, the Past and the Future appeared to her as two dream figures; the Past was a small, poorly clad beggar, and the Future a big, rich giant, but the beggar had a smile on his face and looked oh, so very happy, whilst the rich giant knitted his brows and looked down sadly on the ground.

"No, no," cried the girl, "the giant is blind and he doesn't see that he has only to give away all those gold brocaded clothes, and then he would be happy! He shan't be sorrowful, I won't let him!"

A little cold nose at that moment thrust itself into Toney's hand as it hung at her side, and a joyful bark brought her back to reality. She seized her beloved mongrel in her arms, whereupon he licked her face and showed that he understood her mood.

"Oh, Trick! Trick! we won't wear gold braid on our jackets and we won't let it make us feel sad. St. Francis said it was tremendously wrong to be sad, and so you are a real saint, Trick. You never are sad except when you have had a gnaw at new heels and have to be punished. We're getting old together, Trick; I'm twenty-one and I feel as if I were much, much older, or I should have done so if St. Francis hadn't come and given me such nice talks. He was just awfully fond of animals, Trick, so he must have been a very, very good man, but he loved his fellow-creatures best of all, so now you and I have both to seek and to find the 'Path of Perfection.'"

*CHAPTER XI.*

*THE NEW SECRETARY.*

Toney had set apart two of her new rooms for the secretary, and she looked round to see that all was comfortable before his arrival. A big knee-hole writing table was so placed that it could look over the park, and there was an easy chair and even a box of cigars for his comfort.

"He'll feel very strange at first," she thought, "and I expect he'll hate messing about this work all day as much as I should if I had to be a private secretary. Gracious stars! What a heap of writing money brings with it. There's a mountain of letters already for him. I must learn to drive the motor-car and then I'll take out tired workers, that will be nice! if only I can get time for it all. Life is beautiful, isn't it, Trick?" Trick wagged his tail and assented, then hearing the carriage wheels they both flew into the hall to receive the new secretary. Jim was driving the waggonette, and Sir Evas and the young man were inside, and Toney's quick eyes caught sight of her new tall pale secretary. Sir Evas was half smiling as he introduced her.

"Here's Mr. Plantagenet Russell, Toney---- Ehem---- Miss Whitburn. I hope you won't be overwhelmed with the work expected of you."

"There's piles already," exclaimed Toney, holding out her hand, "but you are to do them just when you like. The paper-basket will be the best place for half of them. Uncle Evas has told you all my sins I expect. Mr. Diggings, will you show Mr. Russell to his room. Lady Dove isn't visible till lunch time."

"Thanks," said Mr. Plantagenet Russell slowly; he wore an eye-glass in the right eye, and slightly raised the left eyebrow. So this was the great heiress he had come to work for, he had expected somebody very different. He was not at all pleased with life in general. He had been brought up in the lap of luxury, when suddenly, just when he was half-way through his college career, his father, a lawyer, died. Then it was discovered that he had swindled his clients, and that his wife and his only son were penniless. His mother's brother had given shelter to both, and after trying several clerkships, Mr. Plantagenet Russell had by chance heard of this post, and much to his surprise had obtained it. Plantagenet had thought this would be a far easier life than mere clerkships. The heiress was, of course, to be beautiful, and he could take life in the leisurely fashion which he deemed to be consistent with his early bringing up. The disgrace incurred by his father's defalcation weighed heavily on Plantagenet Russell, but he hoped this fact was but little known, and he himself was perfectly trustworthy as far as money was concerned. Here again life had been very unfair to him, and now he felt taken in because the heiress was so unlike his expectations, her very movements denoted a youthful energy which might prove most inconvenient, and which was not at all consistent with riches. In Plantagenet's mind to be poor when you had once been rich, was a disgrace very ill deserved.

Lunch time brought the members of Aldersfield together, and Plantagenet's spirits rose when Sir Evas introduced him to Lady Dove. Here was a lady of high degree who knew her own position. He bowed low and with great deference, and Lady Dove immediately took a liking to him. She saw that this young man recognised that she was Lady Dove, of Aldersfield House, and she had heard he had once been rich.

"I am glad you are coming to assist my niece, Mr. Russell, with the many duties wealth should entail upon her. You will, I hope, help her to carry out these duties as she has had very little experience. Of course those born to wealth know how hardly the duties of it press upon the conscientious mind." She looked sympathetically at him, and Plantagenet Russell was comforted.

"I shall endeavour to follow your wishes in all things, Lady Dove," said the secretary with another bow. Lady Dove smiled upon him. A young man who deferred to her wishes warmed her heart, "so unlike that stuck-up, conceited Lewis Waycott," she mentally said.

"I am sure your presence here will be a real satisfaction to my niece" (since her accession of fortune Toney had been usually spoken of as "my niece"), "and she will benefit greatly by having you here. Do have some of that pheasant, I daresay you will like a little shooting. Sir Evas is so glad of a companion when he goes out with his gun. Our preserves are really most satisfactory this year."

Both the lady and the young man were mightily pleased, one by being able to offer and the other to accept the slaughter of aristocratic birds. Sir Evas listened with an amused smile and Toney exclaimed,

"I wish one could decide if it is right to kill birds and fishes. St. Francis wouldn't have shot a pheasant I'm sure, though there's nothing about pheasants in my new book; but St. Anthony really preached to the fishes at Rimini because the heretics wouldn't listen to him."

"Salmon?" inquired Sir Evas.

"All sizes and kinds, and they held up their heads above the water and stood to attention, all according to their height, and then he preached an awfully jolly little sermon, and reminded them how nice it was to have fins and to be able to go where they liked."

"It's only a legend, dear," said Mrs. Faber, smiling.

"And how did they take it?" asked Sir Evas, hoping the new secretary was not listening.

"They opened their mouths and bowed their heads and St. Anthony was awfully pleased, and said the fishes were better than the heretics."

"They made less noise evidently. I hope the heretics were impressed."

"Yes, they were, and were converted by it."

Plantagenet Russell at this moment behaved like the fishes, for he opened his mouth as if to remonstrate with Toney but thought better of it. His heart sank within him. This heiress' brain was evidently deranged, and however on earth should he deal with her? Thank heaven he had Lady Dove to fall back upon. She was the real thing. Sir Evas quickly changed the conversation.

"I hear the new motor-car is coming this afternoon, and that you and Jim are both dying to take lessons in driving."

"Yes, I thought we ought. It will save time, but I can't do away with my beloved Colon. It's not half a full stop, Mr. Russell, it's short for Colonist--he'll do for the dog-cart as well as for riding; but you must learn to drive the motor, too, uncle. You mustn't be behind the times! The excitement will keep you young."

"I consider motor-cars are a vulgar ostentation of money. In old days county families did not air their poverty or their wealth," said Lady Dove.

"Wasn't that a sort of pretending anyway?" said Toney meditatively.

"'Noblesse oblige' is a motto only one class can really understand," retorted Lady Dove, looking sympathetically at Plantagenet Russell. She concluded he was of _her_ class and would understand.

"No class was ever made that would fit you, Toney," said Sir Evas laughing.

"By the way, if you are going in a horrid machine, Antonia, I wish you would go to the Towers. Lady Southbourne has sent us a note asking us to come to tea to-day, and I am quite too tired. Her son is there."

"All right, Aunt Dove, I'll go! Mr. Russell had better wait and see if I can bring myself home safely before trying the motor. Chum, dear, I think Brother Angel wouldn't like you to go either, but we shall soon be back."

"I can't spare Anne Faber to-day," said Lady Dove decidedly. "You forget I am alone."

When Mr. Russell was established in his room, which to his disgust Toney called "his office," and left to his first pile of letters and the cigars, all went to the hall door to inspect the new motorcar, which was Toney's first big purchase for herself. It had been ordered some time ago, and was very well planned. It could make a comfortable omnibus as well as an open carriage. A professional chauffeur had come to instruct the mistress and her groom, and off they sped to the Towers, the big county house some eight miles away. But on going through the village Toney found her car turned into a Juggernaut, all the people flew out of the cottages shouting their welcome, Toney stopped the car and let them all examine the monster as it was the first they had seen at such close quarters; then some of the children had to be taken a little drive till the chauffeur objected to it as waste of time, and Toney had to move on.

"When I can drive myself you shall have fine rides," she said, "besides it's an awfully good way of teaching geography," and amid the shouts of delight the heiress drove off, feeling warm within.

"It's like champagne, isn't it, Jim?"

Jim grinned and touched his hat and said, "Yes, miss," not knowing the least what was like champagne, but of course it was like champagne if Miss Toney said so.

When they arrived at the Towers, she told Jim and the chauffeur to exercise round the park, and prepared to pay her first call alone. She did not feel shy, that was not in her nature, but she shook her head as she followed the stiff footman.

"It's all that basket of Gwyddnen Garanhir," she thought; "but I think it works too well when it works at all: still, I had less bother when I was only a poor relation. Oh dear, there's another man-servant; what is the use of being thrown from one to the other like a bale. A good day's digging with the Kanakas would do these men good."

But now Toney found herself in a big drawing-room full of pretty things, very unlike Aldersfield where solid comfort reigned supreme. Lady Southbourne was making lace for a bazaar, to save herself giving money. Her son, a very bright young fellow, who had been charming at the ball, was now sunk in the depth of an armchair chatting to his mother. Oddly enough, their talk had been of Toney, and both looked rather guilty when she entered.

"How very kind of you, Miss Whitburn, to come and have an early cup of tea with us. It's such a long way. Did you drive?"

"I came in the new motor-car, and I only drove a little way as the chauffeur says I give it the jumps, but I shall soon learn. It will be so useful for people who want things in a hurry, and it will save the horses."

"Of course. Lord Southbourne talks of getting one, but I don't know when. We must congratulate you on your party very much."

"It was the best that I ever saw," said the Hon. Edward Lang; "I am glad you have come to talk it over with us. But you will ruin the bumpkins."

"Oh, no, you see they were all our own personal friends. Even uncle, who has a bad memory, has nearly learnt up all the children."

"Good heavens!" said Edward, "you don't mean to say you expect us--to----"

"But you feel ever so much less stupid if you know the names of the piccaninnies of your own people. I think I've got a talent for genealogies. It was much harder to know the Kanakas from each other because of the colour of their faces, but possible too."

"The contrast must be depressing," said Edward, and his mother joined in:

"Lord Southbourne declares you are helping on Socialism; but then we county people are getting poorer, and such windfalls as yours don't happen every day," and Lady Southbourne laughed.

"By Jove, they don't!" echoed Edward.

Then they chatted happily about the various episodes of the party, and Toney had no time to feel out of her element, so that she had really enjoyed herself when she remembered the waiting chauffeurs.

"Oh, there's Jim and the grand gentleman from London waiting. I'm going to make my groom a chauffeur, as he will do all he is told. Those stuck-up reefed-in men are rather tyrants."

"We are all tyrannized over by our servants," said Lady Southbourne with a smile.

"Wouldn't suit me," said Toney emphatically. "Aunt Dove's head gardener is a tyrant, and there are ructions between them. They go out to battle, but he _always_ wins!"

"So does mother's head gentleman," said Edward laughing; "but man is the superior creature."

"I think co-operation is best. St. Francis never lauded it over his brothers."

"St. Francis!" said Lady Southbourne interrogatively, not being at all learned in saints.

"Yes; St. Francis of Assisi. It was one of my birthday presents, and I've read a lot of it already, but I can't quite see clearly yet how one is to imitate him!"

"Pray don't try, Miss Whitburn; you are much nicer as you are," said the Hon. Edward as Toney went off.

"She's charming and original, mother!" he said on his return to the drawing-room.

"She has fifty thousand a year; I have it on good authority," said his mother. "I do think, Edward, you couldn't do better!"

"The point is, could she? Money just melts in my hands."

"Yes; so it's most important you should settle down and retrench."

"On fifty thousand a year? I don't mind trying, Lady Mother."

"There's a good boy--and she really is original, and originality is so in the fashion just now."

*CHAPTER XII.*

*AN UNDIGNIFIED SITUATION.*

Lewis Waycott was shooting over a lonely ten-acre field with a copse at the further end of it, when suddenly he heard a fearful noise, and then beheld a huge black snout rise up on the hedge and look over it. On the top of the snout was Toney and a man. Suddenly loud explicatives in most unparliamentary language were heard as the snout disappeared. Lewis threw his gun down and jumped over the hedge, to see the new motor trembling with indignation and Toney laughing inordinately.

"Oh, Mr. Waycott, I turned the wheel the wrong way! and we had a peep over the hedge. Mr. Hughes is very much displeased with me. The creature is not hurt, is it?"

"No, madam; but if it had been a wall instead of a hedge it would have been ruined, and your life would have been in danger."

Jim had fallen out, but was none the worse, and was grinning broadly as he said:

"Them dratted beasts is so contrary, Miss Toney; better keep to horses."

"Good gracious, Toney, are you hurt?" exclaimed Lewis.

"Not a bit! I'm awfully elastic, you know. No harm done, Mr. Hughes. Come in with us please, Mr. Waycott, and you'll see how nice it is."

Lewis fetched his gun, unloaded it, and accepted. He and Toney got inside, and left the two men on the front seat.

"We have been to the Towers, and they were ever so kind. The Honourable Edward Lang was just as charming as he could be."

Lewis felt aggrieved.

"Why didn't you come and see us instead?"

"Aunt Dove wanted to accept the invitation to tea, and yet didn't want the trouble, whilst I enjoyed it. Isn't it odd why people ask other people they don't want to see, and who don't want to come?" Lewis laughed.

"The ways of Society, Toney. You must learn all that!"

"I never shall. Oh, Mr. Waycott, my new secretary has come, Mr. Plantagenet Russell, and Aunt Dove is fascinated with him! Isn't that a piece of luck?"

"And what do you think?"

"I haven't thought yet at all. I'm only sniffing round like Trick, who glared at his heels, but I was firm. It wouldn't do the first day, would it?"

"If Trick sent him away it would be all right."

"Oh, but you are cruel! I couldn't do it all myself!"

"I'd look in and do it for you!"

"You! What would Miss Waycott say? She would look 'Oh--you--dreadful--Toney' all over!"

Lewis laughed.

"I daresay she would think I was trying to do what I know nothing about, being poor and having no superfluous money to dispense. Anyhow, will you always ask me for help if you are in need of it. It would please me very much to--to help you, Toney."

Toney looked straight up into Lewis' face, and for the first time in her life she hesitated. Then she shook her head.

"I wouldn't bother you or try your patience so much. But I may want help, and you are the only one who would understand. Gracious stars! this animal is snorting and lurching! Is anything the matter, Mr. Hughes?"

"I think there is a nut gone wrong from your having climbed that hedge, madam. I fear it will take a little time to set right."

"That comes of new locomotives," said Lewis, rather pleased. "Anyhow our legs are left to us. I'll escort you home."

Toney jumped out with great alacrity.

"One's legs are the best, aren't they? Come along and have a race."

"I prefer leisurely walks, Toney, if you don't mind. Happily there are only two miles."

"Happily, because Mr. Plantagenet Russell is chained to my letters. Oh, his name is fine, isn't it? Just the grand style, and Aunt Dove feels warm and comfortable when she hears it."

"You chose him because he was born in Australia, didn't you?"

"Yes, I thought he would be just one of our simple kind of men, but--he isn't---- A bit of a lord, still I'm glad as Aunt Dove likes him."

"Who is he?"

"He has lost his money, and seems a bit down in the mouth, so we must deal tenderly with him at first, but oh!--Mr. Waycott, I want to confess."

"To me!"

"Yes, because you won't disapprove too much. Did you look at the advertisements in to-day's papers?"

"No, I don't generally read them, and in which papers?"

Toney counted on her fingers.

"The _Times_, the _Standard_, the _Morning Post_, and a few more. I told a London agent to do it."

"To do what, Toney? I expect it is something surprising!" and Lewis laughed.

"Not really, but I think there will be a good many letters for Mr. Russell."

"Letters about what? But it's his duty to answer letters, that's what he has come for. Most likely you are paying him handsomely for it."

"Oh, yes. I told Uncle Evas it must be enough for him to live on and save. Pups had great ideas about a living wage. So we settled it should be L500 a year as long as he is here. He can save it, and that will help him for many a day."

"Then I don't think you need mind giving him some work."

Toney laughed happily.

"But he didn't guess what he was in for!"

"You haven't told me."

Toney thrust her hand in her pocket and drew out a crumpled paper.