“The Extons were on the land here before us. That ought to count.”
Very wisely the parson held his tongue. Lady Selina replied tartly:
“My dears, the Extons may be here after us, if I allow sentiment to overrule common sense.”
Having repeated this golden axiom so often on the lips of her late husband, Lady Selina paused to stare at the lugubrious countenance of her butler who had entered the room as she was speaking.
“Bless me! Stimson? Has the roof fallen in?”
“Not yet, my lady. The carrier has forgotten the buns.”
“No buns! I shall have to give the dear children pennies instead.”
She hurried out to find the necessary coppers, followed leisurely by Stimson. Brian laughed.
“What a situation! My Lady Bountiful—bunless!”
Cicely crossed the room, and laid her hand upon the parson’s sleeve, looking up into his pleasant face.