AT THE MEET On one occasion, and one only, in the whole year were the gates of the Manor thrown open to all comers, opulent Americans and impecunious Britons alike.

And this was when, in accordance with a custom that had been observed from time immemorial, the foxhounds met upon the Manor lawn.
It was then that Sir Giles, who cursed this obligatory hospitality for weeks beforehand, emerged with a smile as fixed as his scowl, shook hands with the select few whom he deigned to number among his acquaintances and pointedly ignored the many who did not enjoy this privilege.
With old Dimsdale the butler rather than with his master rested the honours of the house, and old Dimsdale did his part nobly; so nobly that Major Shirley was heard to remark more than once that it was a pity he and Sir Giles couldn't change places.

It was the great day of Dimsdale's year, and his was the proud task to see that none of the guests were neglected.
Anne usually rode to hounds on this occasion.

Tall and stately, clad in the conventional black riding-habit that only added grace to her severity of outline, she moved among her husband's guests.

And even those of them who, like Major Shirley, resented that queenliness which was an inborn part of her very nature, were fain to admit that she filled her position as lady of the Manor with striking success.