Rosamond made some apology when she saw Cecil's dainty equipment.

"Dressed, you correct little thing! You put me to shame; but I had no notion which box my evening things are in, and it would have been serious to irritate the whole concern."

"And she was some time with Anne," added Julius.

"Ah! with my good will Anne should not have been here!" rejoined Rosamond. "Didn't I meet old Mrs. Nurse at your threshold, with an invitation from Mrs. Poynsett to dine with her in her room, and didn't we find the bird flown at the first stroke of the gong?"

"Oh, I am very well!" repeated Anne.

Yet she was far more colourless than Julius, for her complexion was not only faded by sickness, but was naturally of the whitest blonde tint; the simple coils of her hair "lint white," and her eyes of the lightest tint of pure blue. The features were of Scottish type, all the more so from being exaggerated by recent illness; but they were handsome enough to show that she must have been a bonnie lassie when her good looks were unimpaired. Her figure far surpassed in height that of both the other ladies, and was very slender, bending with languor and fatigue in spite of her strenuous attempts to straighten it. She was clad in a perfectly plain, almost quaker-looking light dove-coloured silk dress, fitting closely, and unrelieved by any ribbon or ornament of any description, so that her whole appearance suggested nothing but the words "washed out."

It was clear that to let her alone was merciful, and there was no lack of mutual communications among the rest. Frank and Charlie gave their account of the condition of the game.

"Do you let your tenants shoot rabbits?" exclaimed Cecil, as if scandalized. "We never do at Dunstone."

"It prevents an immense amount of discontent and ill-will and underhand work," said Raymond.

"My father never will listen to any nonsense about rabbits,"

proceeded Cecil. "If you once begin there is no end to it, they are sure to encroach. He just sends them a basket of game at the beginning and end of the season."

"By the bye," said Raymond, "I hope ours have all been sent out as usual."

"I can answer for a splendid one at our wedding breakfast," said Rosamond. "The mess-man who came to help was lost in admiration.

Did you breakfast on ortolans, Cecil?"

"Or on nightingales' tongues?" added Charlie.

"You might as well say fatted dormice and snails," said Frank. "One would think the event had been eighteen hundred years ago."

"Poor Frank! he's stuffed so hard that it is bursting out at all his pores!" exclaimed Charlie.

"Ah! you have the advantage of your elder, Master Charles!" said Raymond, with a paternal sound of approbation.

"Till next time," said Frank. "Now, thank goodness, mine is once for all!"

The conversation drifted away to Venice and the homeward journey, which Raymond and Cecil seemed to have spent in unremitting sight- seeing. The quantities of mountains, cathedrals, and pictures they had inspected was quite appalling.

"How hard you must have worked!" exclaimed Rosamond. "Had you never a day's rest out of the thirty?"

"Had we, Cecil? I believe not," said Raymond.

"Sundays?" gasped Anne's low voice at his elbow.

"Indeed," triumphantly returned Cecil, "between English service and High Mass, and Benediction, and the public gardens, and listening to the band, we had not a single blank Sunday."

Anne started and looked aghast; and Raymond said, "The opportunity was not to be wasted, and Cecil enjoyed everything with unwearied vigour."

"Why, what else should we have done? It would have been very dull and stupid to have stayed in together," said Cecil, with a world of innocent wonder in her eyes. Then turning to her neighbour, "Surely, Julius, you went about and saw things!"

"The sea at Filey Bridge, and the Church Congress at Leeds," he answered, smiling.

"Very shocking, is it not, Cecil?" said Rosamond, with mock gravity; "but he must be forgiven, for he was tired to death! I used to think, for my part, that lovers were a sort of mild lunatics, never to be troubled or trusted with any earthly thing; but that's one of the things modern times have changed! As he was to be going, all the clerical staff of St. Awdry's must needs have their holiday and leave him to do their work; indeed, one was sent off here. For six weeks I never saw him, except when he used to rush in to say he couldn't stay; and when at last we were safe in the coupe, he fairly went to sleep before we got to the first station.--Hush! you _know_ you did! And no wonder, for he had been up two nights with some sort of infidel who was supposed to be dying. Then that first week at Filey, he used to bring out his poetry books as the proper sort of thing, and try to read them to me on the sands: but by the time he had got to the bottom of a page, I used to hear the words dragging out slower and slower--

Whereon the--lily--maid--of--Astolat Lay--smiling--like--a--star-fish--fast--asleep."

Wherewith Rosamond dropped her head and closed her eyes; while the brothers shouted with mirth, except Frank, whose countenance was 'of one hurt on a vulnerable side.'

"Disrespect to Elaine? Eh, Frank?" said Charlie; "how many pegs has Julius gone down in your estimation?"

Frank would not commit himself, but he was evidently at the era of sensitiveness on the poetical side. Cecil spoke for him. "How very provoking! What did you do to him, Rosamond?"

"I kept off the sand-flies! I can't say but I was glad of a little rest, for I had been packing up for the whole family for ten days past, with interludes of rushing out into the town; for whatever we had not forgotten, the shops had not sent home! Oh! what a paradise of quiet it was under the rocks at Filey--wasn't it, Julius?"

"We will go there again next time we have a chance," said Julius, looking blissful.

"I would never go again to the same place," cried Cecil. "That's not the way to acquire new ideas."

"We are too old to acquire new ideas, my dear," drawled Rosamond, sleepily.

"What did you go to the Church Congress for!" asked Charlie.

"I hope Julius was awake by that time," said Frank.

"Not if we are to have all the new ideas tried on us," said Raymond, dryly.

"I went to a Congress once!" exclaimed Cecil.

"Indeed!" said her husband, surprised.

"Yes. We thought we ought to encourage them. It was the Congress of Sunday-school managers for our archdeaconry."

"Did you acquire any new ideas?" asked Frank; while Rosamond's very eyelashes seemed to curl with suppressed diversion.

"Oh yes. We explained our system of tickets, and the Arch-deacon said it was a very good one, and ought to be adopted everywhere."

This mode of acquisition of new ideas was quite too much for Julius and Charlie, who both exploded; but Frank retained composure enough to ask, "Did you explain it in person?"

"No. We made Mr. Venn."

"The schoolmaster?" said Julius.

"No. He is _our_ clergyman, and he always does as _we_ tell him; and _so_ Dunstone is quite the model parish of the archdeaconry."

Julius could not help making an odd little bend of the head, half deferential, half satirical; and Raymond said, "Cecil, I believe it rests with you to make the move." An ingenuous girlish blush mantled on her cheek as she looked towards Rosamond and moved.

The drawing-room adjoined the dining-room, and likewise had a glass door leading into the conservatory; but this, like the other windows, was concealed by the pale-blue damask curtains that descended from cornices gilded like the legs of the substantial chairs and sofas. There was, however, no lack of modern light cane and basket seats round the fire, and it looked cheery and comfortable. Rosamond put an arm round Anne's waist--"Poor tired dear, come and lie on the sofa."

"Oh no, I couldn't. The gentlemen will come in."