But at last a hint given by Miss Burton had been hailed as the most charming idea possible. The suggestion was that Beryl should give a birthday party.
Now an ordinary children's party would have been a difficult matter to arrange in that quiet Cornish village.
The houses of the gentry lay at wide distances, many miles apart, and Beryl knew nothing of the children of those homes except an occasional sight of them at church. It was not these children that she intended to invite to her party.
Her plan was to have all the children who had come to her Sunday class, little ones and older ones, to spend a long afternoon and take tea in the garden at Egloshayle House. Miss Burton had seen many such entertainments, and knew just how everything should be managed.
There would be no difficulty in amusing the little guests. Coral and Beryl, delighted with the notion, made numberless plans for their diversion.
Beryl's only fear was that her father might object to this mode of keeping her birthday. He might laugh at it, as he had laughed at her idea of having a Sunday school. She knew that she could not give her party whilst Egloshayle House was full of guests; but she wished to gain her father's consent to her doing so at some future day, when the shooting-party had separated and the house was quiet once more.
But Beryl's patience was severely tried ere she could name the subject to her father. His guests and the shooting made great demands on his time.
For some days Coral and Beryl saw scarcely anything of Mr. Hollys, except when they went down to the dining-room in the evening for a few minutes.
It was impossible, of course, to mention her cherished scheme then, in the presence of the company gathered around the table. And if ever Mr. Hollys found leisure for a few minutes' chat with the children, that "horrid boy" was sure to be within hearing, and Beryl would not for the world have had him know what she wished to say to her father.
Beryl did not regard Percy Everard with more favour as she became used to his presence in the house. Yet he paid her more attention than boys of his age usually accord to little girls. His attentions, however, were not always of an agreeable kind. If Beryl had had a brother, she would probably have known how to take Percy's teasing with a better grace. But it was a new experience for her to have her hair pulled without the least warning, her ears tickled with a straw, or to find herself tripped up by a sly foot just as she started for a run, whilst her tormentor seemed to derive the utmost amusement from seeing the annoyance he created.