“To-morrow, with her maid, lapdog, parrot, umbrella and bandbox. She writes that she will stay a month, and that she must have no annoyance from the children, and that she won’t have them in her room—the old nuisance! If it wasn’t for her money, I’d telegraph her to go to Guinea, but as we are situated I can’t. I must put up with her ways. And what I want of you, Miss Bird, is to see that the children do not stir off this floor while she is here. Let them die for want of exercise, the poor darlings, rather than we offend this horrid old woman. If we sacrifice ourselves, she can’t leave her property to some fussy old charity, that’s one comfort.”

“I will do my best to keep the children out of Mrs. Wroat’s sight,” said Lally gravely.

“You must succeed in doing so, for the old lady says this will probably be her last visit to us, as she is growing more and more infirm, and she hints that it is time to make her will. Everything depends upon her reception on the occasion of this visit. Let her get miffed at us, and it’s all up. I declare I wish I had a place where I could hide the children during her stay. She must not see or hear them, Miss Bird.”

“Is there anything more that I can do, Mrs. Blight?”

“Yes; she always has the governess play upon the piano and sing to her in the evening. She is fond of music, desperately so. We always hire a cottage piano and put it in her sitting-room while she stays, and the governess plays to her there evenings. She’s very liberal with a governess who can play well. She gave Miss Oddly last year a five-pound note. And always when she leaves us after a visit, she hands me twenty pounds and says she never wants to be indebted to anybody, and that’s to defray her expenses while here. I have to take it. I wouldn’t dare to refuse it.”

“I shall be glad to amuse her in any way, Mrs. Blight,” declared the young governess. “I shall not mind her eccentricities, and shall remember that she is ‘aged and infirm.’”

“And she has fifty thousand pounds which we must have,” said Mrs. Blight. “Don’t fail to remember that!”

Much relieved at having guarded against a meeting between her expected guest and her children, Mrs. Blight departed to seek an interview with her cook.

Extensive preparations were made that day for the reception of Mrs. Wroat. Two rooms were prepared for her use, one of them having two beds, one bed being for the use of the maid. A cottage piano was hired and put into one of the rooms. The choicest articles of furniture in the house were arranged for her use. The hint that Mrs. Wroat was thinking of making her will was sufficient to render her time-serving, money-hunting relatives gentle, pliable, and apparently full of tender anxiety for her happiness and comfort.

Mr. Blight was informed of the good news when he came home to dinner, and he sought a personal interview with his children’s governess, entreating her to keep the youngsters out of sight during the visit of Mrs. Wroat, as she valued her situation.