Upon fête days the villagers were graciously permitted to wander at will through the topiary garden.
By the time that Cicely reached the lawn most of Lady Selina’s people had assembled about the tea-tables. Cicely joined Brian. Her mother was standing near the parson, who, with uplifted hand and voice, addressed the company:
“My dear friends, once more we meet in this charming garden, where we have enjoyed so often the gracious hospitality of the Lady of the Manor.” (Cheers.) “Lady Selina desires me to thank you for this kind reception, and I am quite sure that you wish me to thank her on your behalf for her continued bounty and the good creature comforts which we are about to enjoy. The gifts soon to be bestowed on the aged and infirm are very precious oblations——”
At this point the speaker was shrilly interrupted by a small boy, not ill-looking, but presenting a vacuous countenance to all beholders, and regarded by them as the village softy.
“What do Pa’son say?”
Everybody smiled compassionately. Nick Farleigh, a cousin of Lady Selina’s typist, was regarded as quite harmless and on occasion a source of innocent amusement. Mr. Goodrich answered him:
“Oblations, my young friend, mean offerings, symbols of the love and affection which Lady Selina has shown to all of us, gentle and simple, ever since she came to Upworthy to reign over us with unremitting generosity and kindliness. In her name I bid you welcome.”
More cheers.
Brian whispered to his sister:
“Old Goody lays it on a bit thick, but Mother has played the game, bless her.”