It was a Sunday evening in October, and in common with
many other young ladies of her class, Katharine Hilbery
was pouring out tea. Perhaps a fifth part of her mind was
thus occupied, and the remaining parts leapt over the
little barrier of day which interposed between Monday
morning and this rather subdued moment, and played
with the things one does voluntarily and normally in the
daylight. But although she was silent, she was evidently
mistress of a situation which was familiar enough to her,
and inclined to let it take its way for the six hundredth
time, perhaps, without bringing into play any of her unoccupied
faculties. A single glance was enough to show
that Mrs. Hilbery was so rich in the gifts which make tea-
parties of elderly distinguished people successful, that
she scarcely needed any help from her daughter, provided
that the tiresome business of teacups and bread and butter
was discharged for her.