Either Ash would behave himself properly, and carry out orders without grumbling, or he would be superseded. Ash superseded!

This John had said with quite unruffled good humour, and with a smile on his face, as though such an upheaval of domestic politics were the simplest thing in the world.  Though for years the insolence and the idleness of Ash had been favourite grievances with Lady Belstone and Miss Crewys, they were speechlessly indignant with young John.

Habit had partially inured, though it could never reconcile them, to the appearance of that little rustic table and white cloth in Lady Mary’s favourite corner of the terrace; and though they would rather have gone without their tea altogether than partake of it there, they could behold her pouring it out for herself with comparative equanimity.

“I trust you are rested, dear Mary, after your terrible long climb in the woods this morning?”

“It has been very restful sitting here.  I hope you had a pleasant drive, Isabella?” “No; it was too hot to be pleasant.  We passed the rectory, and there was that idle doctor lolling in the canon’s verandah—­keeping the poor man from his haymaking.  Has the second post come in?  Any news of dear Peter?”

“None at all.  You know he is not much of a correspondent, and his last letter said he would be back in a few days.”

“For my part,” said Lady Belstone, “I think Peter will come home the day he attains his majority, and not a moment before.”

“He is hardly likely to stay in London through August and September,” said Lady Mary, in rather displeased tones.

“Perhaps not in London; but there are other places besides London,” said Miss Crewys, significantly.  “We met Mrs. Hewel driving. She, poor thing, does not expect to see Sarah before Christmas, if then, from what she told us.”

“She should not have let Lady Tintern adopt Sarah if she is to be for ever regretting it.  It was her own doing,” said Lady Mary.

“That is just what I told her,” said Lady Belstone, triumphantly.  “Though how she can be regretting such a daughter I cannot conjecture.”

“Sarah is a saucy creature,” said Miss Crewys.  “The last time I saw her she made one of her senseless jokes at me.”

“She has no tact,” said Lady Belstone, shaking her head; “for when Peter saw you were annoyed, and tried to pass it off by telling her the Crewys family had no sense of humour, instead of saying, ’What nonsense!’ she said, ‘What a pity!’”

“Her mother was full of a letter from Lady Tintern about some grand lord or other, who wanted to marry Sarah.  I did my best to make her understand how very unlikely it was that any man, noble or otherwise, would care to marry a girl with carroty hair.”

“I doubt if you succeeded in convincing her, Georgina, though you spoke pretty plain, and I am very far from blaming you for it.  But she is ate up with pride, poor thing, because Sarah gets noticed by Lady Tintern’s friends, who would naturally wish to gratify her by flattering her niece.”