‘I want them for a presentation bouquet.’

‘A presentation bouquet! Who’s coming then? — the Duchess of Portland?’

‘No.’

‘Oh, not her? Well you’ll have a rare poppy-show if you put all the things you’ve mentioned into your bouquet.’

‘Yes, I want a rare poppy-show.’

‘You do! Then there’s no more to be said.’

The next day Winifred, in a dress of silvery velvet, and holding a gaudy bunch of flowers in her hand, waited with keen impatience in the schoolroom, looking down the drive for Gudrun’s arrival. It was a wet morning. Under her nose was the