"How is Mrs. Palling?" asked Philippa presently. "Has she been indulging in any more extraordinary readings of the truth?"
"Not just lately. She was particularly cheerful this morning. She has gone to a funeral, and the very mention of one always rouses her to enthusiasm. I must tell you that the deceased was no relation and not even a dear friend, so I saw no reason to damp her pleasurable excitement. She loves an outing, does Mrs. Palling. Notice the beehives. They are looking decidedly rakish adorned with black streamers in honour of the occasion. I have written to London to-day for a fresh supply of black ribbon, for the last was torn from my Sunday hat. I had no heart to refuse Mrs. Palling's piteous appeal, but the demand is becoming so constant that, as she does not seem inclined to keep a supply herself, I feel I must for the future."
"I am particularly glad she has gone out to-day, for all this week she has been occupied in the manufacture of a decoction of marigolds, which she assures me is a sovereign remedy against colds and chills. It appears that she has been trying to obtain the recipe for years, but only one person had it, and she guarded it with the most jealous secrecy. Now, at last, Mrs. Palling has prevailed upon her to disclose it, to her overwhelming joy and my infinite regret. I can only say that if the taste is anything like the smell I would most assuredly prefer the cold. As it is, I shall live in dread of the moment when my first sneeze will give Mrs. Palling the opportunity she longs for--that of proving it; and she will appear like an avenging fury armed with a flaming sword in the shape of a bumper of her noxious brew, stand over me until I drink it, and force me under pain of repeated doses to retract all the unkind remarks I have made about it. Mrs. Palling has a horrible way of getting the better of me in the end. I am beginning to think that a person who is always right is very trying to live with. So much wisdom gives me a sort of mental indigestion. I used to think nothing could be so irritating as a fool, but now I see why the Corinthians of old suffered fools gladly. The sight of folly gives one a comfortable feeling of superiority, and it is so nice to feel really superior even if one has the grace not to show it."