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such a large crowd, it seems. I’ve been asked to provide cakes and tarts and other sweets.”
    “Oh, yes, you must come, Beatrix,” Dimity said in a rush, obviously relieved to leave the subject of the Kittredge marriage. “Raven Hall may look forbidding on the outside, but the interior is really quite spectacular, with a minstrel gallery and a view over Lake Windermere, and some fine old pieces of art. Including the Luck, of course, which is quite famous.” She fell silent again, and Beatrix guessed that she was thinking of a time when she had seen herself as the mistress of Raven Hall.
    “I’m not sure I’ll go,” Beatrix said apologetically. She was shy and self-conscious in crowds, and avoided large social gatherings when she could. “There’s so much to be done here, and I promised my mother that I would only stay away a fortnight. If the weather is fine, I should very much like to get into the garden.”
    “Nonsense,” Sarah said decidedly. “You have to go, and that’s all there is to it.” She glanced at the clock and stood up. “My buns have risen, so I’m off to put them into the oven. Lovely to have you back, Bea. Do get another cat, will you, before I have rats in my bread bin? Ta, Dim. See you at Raven Hall.”
    “I’m off, too,” Dimity said, as Sarah bustled out the door. “I must go down to the school this morning and look for the May box.”
    “The May box?” Beatrix asked curiously.
    “The crowns and May Pole ribbons,” Dimity said. She sighed. “Mrs. Peachy always manages the May Pageant, which is just a week away. But she’s gone to Edinburgh to help her sister, who’s ill. So I agreed to take her place.”
    “That’s no surprise,” Beatrix said with a smile. Dimity was always agreeing to do this, that, or the other thing, usually on very short notice. But perhaps the May Pageant was good for her. It might keep her mind off Major Kittredge and his mysterious new wife.
    “I know.” Dimity made a face. “But the children always look forward to the May Pole. I couldn’t find it in my heart to say no.” She picked up her basket. “So you’re staying just a fortnight?”
    “Yes,” Beatrix said, going with her to the door. She glanced out at the stone wall, where Crumpet was perched, victorious, with her prize. “And it looks as if I shall have to spend a good part of it dealing with rats. ”

3
    Ridley Rattail Arrives at a Conclusion
    At the same moment that Miss Potter was asserting her determination to do something about the rats, Ridley Rattail was pacing around his parlor in the northwest corner of the Hill Top attic, his hands clasped beneath his coattails. He and Miss Potter were puzzling over the very same problem.
    Ridley, a stout, mild-tempered gentleman rat from the Midlands, had come to live at Hill Top at the invitation of his friend Rosabelle, just about the time Miss Potter had purchased the place. His introduction to the Lake District had been most unpleasant, as you will remember if you read a book called The Tale of Hill Top Farm. If you’ve not read it or have forgotten the story, perhaps I ought to tell you that Ridley had been cheated out of some money (never mind how he acquired it) by a pair of very disagreeable rats, and that he had just missed being snatched up by an enormous owl, and had lost most of his clothes when he was forced to swim across Wilfin Beck in the middle of the night. He had arrived in Rosabelle’s attic wet, miserable, and thoroughly frightened.
    But Rosabelle was a most gracious and hospitable friend. Various guests who had stayed with her over the years had left one thing or another behind, and Ridley was able to outfit himself quite handsomely in the way of trousers, shirtfronts, waistcoats, slippers, and a fine briar pipe, to which he added his own possessions, forwarded from his previous residence. The Jennings family, who occupied the rooms downstairs, were also generous (or careless—it amounted to the same thing in