'It's finished,' Caroline said. 'Don't tell your husband, at least
till we have gone--and we ought to go at once.'

But the coachman was not on the box. He had been invited to take tea
in the kitchen.

'We won't disturb him,' Sophia said. 'No, Caroline, let him have his
tea. We ought to encourage teetotal drinking in his class. Perhaps
Mrs. Sales will let us go round the garden. I am so fond of flowers.'

'Come and look at the pigsties,' Francis said to Rose, but, assuring
him she had grown too old for pigs, she followed the rest.

The walled garden had a beautiful disorder. A grey kitten and a white
puppy sat together on the grass, enjoying the sunshine and each
other's company and pretending to be asleep; and though the kitten
displayed no interest in the visitors, holding its personality of more
importance than anything else, the puppy jumped up, barked, and rushed
at each person in turn. Caroline, picking up her skirts and showing
the famous Mallett ankle, said, 'Go away, dog!' in a severe tone, and
the puppy rolled on the grass to show that he did not care and could
not by any possibility be snubbed. Under an apple-tree on which the
fruit was ripening were two cane chairs, a table, a newspaper and a
work-basket.

'This is my favourite place,' Mrs. Sales said to Rose. 'I hate that
drawing-room, and Francis won't have it touched. But I've got a
boudoir that's lovely. He sent an order to the best shop and had it
ready for a surprise, so if I'm not out of doors I sit there. Would