A clatter of dishes on a tray heralded the approach of Eliza.

"It is time the table was clear," Mrs. Rainham said. "Wilfred, darling,
I want you to post a letter. Put up your work and get your cap. Cecilia,
you had better try to clean the cloth before lunch; it is ruined, of
course, but do what you can with it. I will choose another the next time
I am in London. And just make sure that the children's things are all in
order for the dancing lesson this afternoon. Avice, did you put out your
slippers to be cleaned?"

"Forgot all about it, Mater," said Avice cheerfully.

"Silly child--and it is Jackson's day off. Just brush them up for her,
Cecilia. When the children have gone this afternoon, I want you to see
to the drawing-room; some people are coming in to-night, and there are
fresh flowers from Brown's to arrange."

Cecilia looked up, with a sudden flush of dismay. The children's dancing
lesson gave her one free afternoon during the week.

"But--but I am going to meet Bob," she stammered.

"Oh, Bob will wait, no doubt; you need not keep him long, if you hasten
yourself. Yes, Eliza, you can have the table." Mrs. Rainham left the
room, with the children at her heels.

Cecilia whisked the lesson books hastily away; Eliza was waiting with a
lowering brow, and Eliza was by no means a person to be offended. Maids
were scarce enough in England in the months after the end of the
war; and, even in easier times, there had been a dreary procession