“Is it really?” demanded Mysie, in a voice that made Mrs. Grinstead laugh and say—
“Such is my woeful lack of experience.”
“We have fallen on a bazaar wherever we went,” said Lady Merrifield.
“But this is our first grown-up one, mamma,” said Valetta. “There was only a sale of work before.”
They all laughed, and Lance said—
“To Stoneborough they seem like revenues—at least sales of work, for I can’t say I understand the distinction.”
“Recurring brigandages,” said General Mohun.
“Ah! Uncle Reggie has never forgotten his getting a Noah’s ark in a raffle,” said Mysie.
So went the merry talk, while one and another came in at Miss Mohun’s verandah windows to be sustained with food and rest, and then darted forth again to renew their labours until the evening, Miss Mohun flying about everywhere on all sorts of needs, and her brother the General waiting by the dining-room to do the duties of hospitality to the strays of the families who dropped in, chattering and laughing, and exhausted.
Lady Merrifield was authorized to detain Mrs. Grinstead to the last moment possible to either, and they fell into a talk on the morality of bazaars, which, as Lady Merrifield said, had been a worry to her everywhere, while Geraldine had been out of their reach; since the Underwoods had done everything without begging, and Clement disapproved of them without the most urgent need; but, as Lance had said, his wife had grown up to them, and had gone through all the stages from delighting, acquiescing, and being bored, and they had so advanced since their early days, from being simply sales to the grand period of ornaments, costumes, and anything to attract.