'
'Oh, indeed, get rid of them! Yes, to be sure, but--I beg your pardon, Mr
Anstruther--'
'I'm sorry, Collins, but I must be getting on now. I hear the car at the
door. Your mistress will explain exactly what she wishes. I'll tell her,
then, that you can see your way to clearing away the seats at once, and
the post this afternoon. Good morning.'
Collins was left rubbing his chin. Mrs Anstruther received the report
with some discontent, but did not insist upon any change of plan.
By four o'clock that afternoon she had dismissed her husband to his golf,
had dealt faithfully with Collins and with the other duties of the day,
and, having sent a campstool and umbrella to the proper spot, had just
settled down to her sketch of the church as seen from the shrubbery, when
a maid came hurrying down the path to report that Miss Wilkins had
called.
Miss Wilkins was one of the few remaining members of the family from whom
the Anstruthers had bought the Westfield estate some few years back. She
had been staying in the neighbourhood, and this was probably a farewell
visit. 'Perhaps you could ask Miss Wilkins to join me here,' said Mrs
Anstruther, and soon Miss Wilkins, a person of mature years, approached.
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