She smiled, but said nothing. He glanced at her shyly. "Summery frocks and Indian Society would suit you," he said.
"Do you think so?" she said easily.
"Yes. By the way, you just must come up for the Mays. Will you promise?"
"I'll come if I possibly can," she said, "and thank you ever so much for asking me. Here we are. Now come in and settle with father about the ivy, will you?"
(3)
The Annual Sale of Work was the parochial Feast of Claxted. A distinguished visitor was always invited to open it; the stalls through which one wandered, were so many courses, so to speak; and in the evening, there were always songs, a few speeches, and light refreshments. So far as the Mission Hall of the church was concerned, only the more superior members were expected to put in an appearance, and these chiefly in the evening. Thus Hodgson always came, but not old Miller. The Christian Endeavour arranged little side-show concerts from six o'clock onwards, at half-hour intervals, but even the Endeavourers were not seen in the afternoon. During those sacred hours, the carriages drew up outside the Parish Room in Edward Street, and there descended from them the elite and the wealthy of the congregation. These, entering the half-empty room, caused a ripple of comment to run through the stall-holders proportionate to their importance. "Old Mrs. Wherry," Mrs. Ernest would whisper enthusiastically to Madeline. "Oh, my dear, try to get her here at once. She always spends such a lot, and she's so blind, she can't see what she buys. She just decides to spend so much, I believe, and when it's spent, no one can get another penny out of her. Do fetch her here."
"How can I, mother?" retorted Madeline, on this occasion.
"I'll try," said Paul, good-humouredly, and strolled off in her direction.
"Madeline, I saw you fastening that ivy with Paul," said Mrs. Ernest, as he went.
"Well, mother?"