The room was in a state of chaos. All the desks lay piled at one end, so that the door would hardly open. At the other a group of women surrounded the tree.
The door squeaked as Mary pushed it open. Mrs. Coast, the schoolmaster's wife, set down a basket of coloured balls and came forward to greet her. She was always a little more afraid of life than usual in Mrs. Robson's presence, half admiring her, half abashed. Mr. Coast did not like Mary, and where Mr. Coast disliked Mrs. Coast must not admire.
"Well, this is good of you, Mrs. Robson," she said quite sincerely. Mary generally managed to impress other people with the immensity of her goodness. "We were just saying 'Now I wonder if she'll come, being so busy with everything.'"
Miss Taylor, the assistant schoolmistress moved rapidly out of Mary's way, accidentally stepping on two china ornaments in her transit. Her plump arms were almost bursting from her flannel blouse in their exuberant eagerness for work. She beamed upon Mary.
"Yes, I'm sure," she broke in. "Little Hal Stephens met me this morning with his mouth full of mince-pie and said 'Have you been to Robsons', Miss Taylor?' and I said, 'No Hal.' So he said 'Then you'd better go. Mrs. Robson's been getting married again and there's lots of good things to eat. But you know I still saw the old Mr. Robson about. What's going to happen to him now there's a new one?'"
Everyone smiled, recognizing that Miss Taylor, for very love of living, had to say something however silly on every occasion. Only the young ladies from the Glebe Farm were not quite sure that this was a proper subject for a joke.
"Oh yes," said Mary, drawing off her gloves and beginning to string thread through the oranges. "Hal came up with a note from his mother, and we had so much stuff left over from yesterday I just gave him some mince-pies. He's a good little chap and ever so useful his mother says."
"His brother works for you, doesn't he?" Mrs. Coast made a desperate effort to entertain her distinguished helper. If only Mr. Coast was not always remembering that time when Mrs. Robson persuaded her husband not to sign a testimonial of recommendation. Even if he was applying for a new post then, and Mrs. Robson had spoilt his chances, she was a very nice woman.
Mary replied serenely.
"Yes, he's third lad and John says he is going to be a very smart boy. We might put some of these oranges on now, don't you think? Lily, would you mind getting the steps? Your legs are younger than mine, my dear." Mary was mounted on the steps, an orange hanging from each hand, the boughs of the tree swaying round her in a curtain of feathery green, when the vicar entered the room.