“It would be dreadful, you know,” Emily said to the two when they came into her tent and began to ask questions, “if a big boy should get a small wooden horse, or a little baby should be given a cricket bat and ball.  Then it would be so disappointing if a tiny girl got a work-box and a big one got a doll.  One has to get things in order.  They look forward to this so, and it’s heart-breaking to a child to be disappointed, isn’t it?”

Walderhurst gazed uninspiringly.

“Who did this for Lady Maria when you were not here?” he inquired.

“Oh, other people.  But she says it was tiresome.”  Then with an illumined smile; “She has asked me to Mallowe for the next twenty years for the treats.  She is so kind.”

“Maria is a kind woman”—­with what seemed to Emily delightful amiability.  “She is kind to her treats and she is kind to Maria Bayne.”

“She is kind to me,” said Emily.  “You don’t know how I am enjoying this.”

“That woman enjoys everything,” Lord Walderhurst said when he walked away with Cora.  “What a temperament to have!  I would give ten thousand a year for it.”

“She has so little,” said Cora, “that everything seems beautiful to her.  One doesn’t wonder, either.  She’s very nice.  Mother and I quite admire her.  We are thinking of inviting her to New York and giving her a real good time.”

“She would enjoy New York.”

“Have you ever been there, Lord Walderhurst?”

“No.”

“You ought to come, really.  So many Englishmen come now, and they all seem to like it.”

“Perhaps I will come,” said Walderhurst.  “I have been thinking of it.  One is tired of the Continent and one knows India.  One doesn’t know Fifth Avenue, and Central Park, and the Rocky Mountains.”

“One might try them,” suggested pretty Miss Cora.

This certainly was her day.  Lord Walderhurst took her and her mother out in his own particular high phaeton before lunch.  He was fond of driving, and his own phaeton and horses had come to Mallowe with him.  He took only his favourites out, and though he bore himself on this occasion with a calm air, the event caused a little smiling flurry on the lawn.  At least, when the phaeton spun down the avenue with Miss Brooke and her mother looking slightly flushed and thrilled in their high seats of honour, several people exchanged glances and raised eye-brows.

Lady Agatha went to her room and wrote a long letter to Curzon Street.  Mrs. Ralph talked about the problem-play to young Heriot and a group of others.

The afternoon, brilliant and blazing, brought new visitors to assist by their presence at the treat.  Lady Maria always had a large house-party, and added guests from the neighbourhood to make for gaiety.  At two o’clock a procession of village children and their friends and parents, headed by the village band, marched up the avenue and passed before the house on their way to their special part of the park.  Lady Maria and her guests stood upon the broad steps and welcomed the jocund crowd, as it moved by, with hospitable bows and nods and becks and wreathed smiles.  Everybody was in a delighted good-humour.