"You do not suppose that Francie is--is touched?"

"No," said Sophy, gravely as an elder, "she is such a child. She was very much pleased and entertained, and went on chattering, till I begged her to let us say our prayers in peace. We never talk after that, and she went to sleep directly, and was smiling when she woke, but I do not fancy she will dwell on it, or fancy there is more to come, unless some one puts it into her head."

It was sagely said, and Clement knew pretty well who was the one person from whom Sophy had fears. Poor Alda, improved and altered as she was, if such a hope occurred to her, would she be able to help imparting it to her daughter and looking out for the fulfilment?

Loud calls for Sophy rang through the house, and Clement had only time to add--

"Patience, dear child, and submission. They not only win the day, but are the best preparation for it when it is won."

That family of girls had grown up to be a care to one who had trusted that his calling would be a shield from worldly concerns; but he accepted it as providential, and as a trust imposed on him as certainly as Felix had felt the headship of the orphaned house.

He was rejoiced to find on coming down-stairs that Lance had decided on giving another day to family counsels, sending off little Felix with his cousins, who would drop him at the junction to Stoneborough, whence he would be proud to travel alone. Clement took another resolution, in virtue of which he knocked at his sister's door before she went down.

"Cherry," said he, "would it be inconvenient to keep Francie here just for the present?"

"Not at all; it would be only too pleasant for Anna now that she loses her brother. But why?"

"I want to hinder her from hearing the conclusions that her mother may draw from the diversions of yesterday."

"I see. It might soon be,

'He cometh not, she said.'"

"And Sophy will keep her counsel as to those moonlight wanderings. When were they to go?"

"By the 11.30 train. Marilda is coming up first."

So the plan was propounded. Franceska was only too much charmed to stay in what had indeed been an enchanted coast to her, and Sophy was sure that mamma would not mind; so the matter was settled, and the explanatory notes written.

The party set off, with each little boy hugging a ship in full sail, and the two young sisters were disposed of by a walk to Clipstone to talk over their adventures. Mrs. Grinstead felt certain of the good manners and reticence prevailing there to prevent any banter about Lord Ivinghoe, and she secured the matter further by a hint to Anna.

However, Miss Mohun was announced almost as they left the house. She too was full of the bazaar, which seemed so long ago to her hearers, but with the result of which she was exceedingly delighted. The voluntary schools were secured for the present, and the grat.i.tude of the Church folk was unbounded, especially to the Vale Leston family, who had contributed so greatly to the success of the whole.

Jane too had watched the evening manoeuvres, and perceived, with her sharp eyes, all that was avowed and not avowed under that rising moon.

The pair of whom she had first to speak were "Ivanhoe and Rowena," as she called them, and she was glad to find that the "fair Saxon" had grown up at Vale Leston, educated by her aunt and sister, and imbibing no outside habits or impressions.

"Poor child," said Jane, "she looks like a flower; one is sorry it should be meddled with."

"So did my sister Stella, and there, contrary to all our fears, the course of true love did run smooth."

"If it depended entirely on Rotherwood himself, I think it would,"

said Jane, "but--" She paused and went on, "Ivinghoe is, I fear, really volage, and he is the mark of a good many London mammas."

"Is it true about Mrs. Henderson's sister?"

"There's nothing in it. I believe he danced with her a few times, and the silly little thing put her own construction on it, but her sister made her confess that he had never said a word to her, nor made love in any sense. Indeed, my sister Adeline would never have consented to her coming here if she had believed in it, but Maura has a Greek nature and turns the Whites round her fingers. Well, I hope all will go well with your pretty Franceska. I should not like her lovely bloom to be faded by Ivinghoe. He is Rotherwood's own boy, though rather a prig, and a man in London. Oh, you know what that means!"

"We have done _notre possible_ to keep our interpretation from the poor child, or any hint of it from reaching her mother."

"That's right. Poor Rowena, I hope the spark will be blown out, or remain only a pleasant recollection. As to little Maura, she had her lesson when she was reduced to hanging on Captain Henderson's other arm!

She is off to-day to meet Mr. White in London. That purpose has been served."

"And have you not a nearer interest?"

"Oh, Gillian! Well, Captain Armytage did get hold of her, in what we must now call the Lover's Walk! Yes, she has yielded, to her father's great satisfaction and perhaps to her mother's, for she will be more comfortable in looking forward to a commonplace life for her than in the dread of modern aberrations. But Gillian is very funny, very much ashamed of having given in, and perfectly determined to go to her college and finish her education, which she may as well do while the Sparrow Hawk is at sea. He is off to-day, and she says she is very glad to be rid of him. She sat down at once to her dynamite, as Primrose calls it, having bound over Mysie and Valetta never to mention the subject! I tell them that to obey in silence is the way to serve the poor man best."

Miss Mohun was interrupted by the announcement of Lady Flight and Mr.

Flight, who came equally eager with delight and grat.i.tude to thank the House of Underwood for the triumph. The rest of the clergy of Rockquay and half the ladies might be expected, and in despair at last of a "lucid interval," Geraldine ordered the carriage for a long drive into the country, so as to escape all visitors. Even then, they could not got up the hill without being stopped four or five times to receive the thanks and compliments which nearly drove Gerald crazy, so much did he want to hear what his family had to say to his plans, that he had actually consented to partake of a dowager-drive in a landau!

He and his uncle had discovered from the police in the course of the morning that Ludmilla and her mother had not gone with the circus, but had been seen embarking in the Alice Jane, a vessel bound for London.

His idea had been to hurry thither and endeavour to search out his half-sister, and rescue her; but Lance had a.s.sured him not only that it would probably be a vain quest, but that there would be full time to meet the Alice Jane by land before she could get there by sea.

To this he had yielded, but not so readily to the representation that the wisest way would be to keep out of sight; but to let Lance, as a less interested party, go and interview the van proprietor, whose direction had been sent to Clement, try to see O'Leary, and do his best to bargain for Ludmilla's release, a matter on which all were decided, whatever might be the upshot of the question respecting Gerald. To leave a poor girl to circus training, even if there were no interest in her, would have been shocking to right-minded people; but when it was such a circus as O'Leary's, and the maiden was so good, sweet, and modest as Lida, the thought would have been intolerable even without the connection with Gerald, who had been much taken with all he had seen of her.

"That is fixed, even if we have to bid high for our Mona," said Lance.

"By all means," said Geraldine. "It will be another question what will be good for her when we have got her."

"I will take care of that!" said Gerald.

"Next," Lance went on, "we must see what proofs, or if there be any, of this person's story. I expect one of you will have to pay well for them, but I had better take a lawyer with me."

Clement named the solicitor who had the charge of the Vanderkist affairs.

"Better than Staples, or Bramshaw & Anderson. Yes, it would be best to have no previous knowledge of the family, and no neighbourly acquaintance. Moreover, I am not exactly an interested party, so I may be better attended to."

"Still I very much doubt, even if you do get any statement from the woman, whether it can be depended upon without verification," said Clement.

"From the registers, if there are any at these places?"

"Exactly, and there must be personal inquiry. The first husband, Gian Benista, will have to be hunted down, dead or alive."

"Yes; and another thing," said Lance, "if the Italian marriage were before the revolution in Sicily, I expect the ecclesiastical ceremony would be valid, but after that, the civil marriage would be required."

"Oh!" groaned Gerald, "if you would let me throw it all up without these wretched quibbles."

"Not your father's honour," said his aunt.

"Nor our honesty," said Clement. "It is galling enough to have your whole position in life depend on the word of a worthless woman, but there are things that must be taken patiently, as the will of One who knows."

"It is so hard to accept it as G.o.d's will when it comes of human sin,"

said Geraldine.

"Human thoughtlessness," said Clement; "but as long as it is not by our own fault we can take it as providential, and above all, guard against impatience, the real ruin and destruction."

"Yes," said Lance, "sit on a horse's head when he is down to keep him from kicking."