The peal of 5,040 Stedman's Triples was duly rung on Easter Sunday morning. Hilary Thorpe heard it from the Red House, sitting beside the great old four-poster bed, as she had sat on New Year's morning to hear the peal of Treble Bob Major. Then the noise of the bells had come full and clear; to-day, it reached her only in distant bursts, when the wind, rollicking away with it eastward, bated for a moment or veered round a little to the south.
"Hilary!"
"Yes, Dad."
"I'm afraid--if I go west this time--I'll be leaving you rottenly badly off, old girl."
"I don't care a dash about that, old thing. Not that you are going west. But if you did, I should be quite all right."
"There'll be enough to send you to Oxford, I dare say. Girls don't seem to cost much there--your uncle will see to it."
