"I shall never be able to do that," Mary answered firmly; "I love the village people far too much."
"That is a wholly different matter, and you know very well that I have always been the first to rejoice in the very friendly relations between us and—er—my good tenants. This Gallup person is not one of them. There is not the smallest necessity to know him, and what's more, I decline to know him. Do you understand?"
"No, father, I don't. I can't promise to cut Mr Gallup or be rude to him if I happen to meet him; he has done nothing to deserve it. You don't ask us to cut that odious Rabbich boy, who is a bounder, if you like."
"I know nothing about the Rabbich boy, as you call him. If he is what you say, I should certainly advise you to drop his acquaintance; but I must and do insist that you shall not further cultivate the acquaintance of this young Gallup."
"He's going back to London to-morrow afternoon, father. What is there to worry about?"
Mr Ffolliot sighed. "I shall be glad," he exclaimed, "when your mother returns."
"So will everybody," said Mary.
CHAPTER XX
THE GRANTLY STRAIN
Easter, that year, fell in the second week of April, and both Grantly and the twins were home for it. Mrs Ffolliot was back too. The Riviera had done wonders for her, and she returned beautiful and gay, and immensely glad to have her children round her once more.