“Dora,” said Miss Panney, “I am now going to drive to Thorbury, and it will be a great deal better for you to go with me than to wait for your brother, for it may be very late in the day before he can come for you.  And more than that, it is ten to one that by this time he has forgotten all about you, especially if his office is full of clients.  So please get yourself ready as soon as possible.  And, Miriam, if you will come over to see me some morning, and bring that teaberry gown with you, I will alter it to fit you, and arrange it so that you can do the sewing yourself.  It is very appropriate that the little lady of the house should wear that gown.”

Into the minds of Dora and Miss Panney there came, simultaneously, this idea:  that no matter how much or how often Miriam might wear that gown, she would not be the first one whom it had figuratively invested with the prerogatives of the mistress of Cobhurst.

Miss Bannister, who well knew her brother’s habits, agreed to the old lady’s suggestion, and it was well she did so, for when she got home, Herbert declared that he had been puzzling his mind to devise a plan for sending for his sister and the broken buggy on the same afternoon.  As for going himself, it was impossible.

When Dora came downstairs arrayed in her proper costume, Ralph thought her a great deal prettier than when she wore the pink chintz.  Miss Panney thought so, too, and she managed to leave them together, while she went with Miriam to get pen and paper with which to write a note to Molly Tooney.

“Molly cannot read,” said the old lady, “but if Mike will take that to her, she will come to you and stay as long as you like,” and then she went on to talk about the woman until she thought that Ralph and Dora had had about five minutes together, which she considered enough.

“You must both come and see me,” cried Miss Bannister, as, leaning from the phaeton, she stretched out her hand to Miriam.

“Indeed we shall do so,” said Ralph, and as his sister relinquished the hand of the visitor he took it himself.

Miss Panney was not one of those drivers who start off with a jerk.  Had she been such a one, Miss Bannister might have been pulled against the side of the phaeton, for the grasp was cordial.

CHAPTER XVIII

BLARNEY FLUFF

About three o’clock that afternoon, La Fleur, Mrs. Tolbridge’s cook, sat in the middle of her very pleasant kitchen, composing the dinner.  Had she been the chef of a princely mansion, she could not have given the subject more earnest nor intelligent consideration.  It is true the materials at hand were not those from which a dinner for princes would have been prepared.  But what she had was sufficient for the occasion, and this repast for a country gentleman in moderate circumstances and his wife was planned with conscientiousness as well as skill.  From the first she had known very well that it would be fatal to her pretensions to prepare for the Tolbridges an expensive and luxurious meal, but she had determined that they should never sit down to any but a good one.