Lilias's thoughts roamed back over the past, and a dull resentment against her fiance grew in her mind; for did it not seem that he had always been unlucky, that the brief space of prosperity that had preceded her engagement had been the exception, not the rule, in his experiences? Old Mr Talbot had died while Ned was still at college, and the necessity of looking after the business for the benefit of the family had compelled the young fellow to sacrifice his own hopes of a profession, and settle down to a commercial life. Mr Talbot had owned "Works" of some kind; Lilias had the haziest idea of their purport. Ned manufactured "engines and things," she told her friends vaguely, and spent his days amidst clanking machinery, in an atmosphere impregnated with steam and oil. A dozen years before, "the Works" had been a profitable concern, but it had steadily declined in value, as more powerful firms monopolised the trade. Ned had struggled hard against the tide, but his term of management had been far from prosperous, and when, a year ago, his most formidable rival had come forward with an offer to take over the smaller firm, and instal him in the position of manager over the united businesses, he had been thankful to accept, and to believe that his anxieties were at an end. Six months—scarcely six months—and already he was beginning to feel uneasy, to suspect trouble ahead! Lilias tightened her lips, and her eyes gave out an impatient flash. It requires a noble nature to preserve unswerving confidence in a man through a period of reverse, and Lilias was not capable of the effort. It seemed to her that such a want of success must surely be Ned's own fault, and something startlingly like dislike sprang up in her heart, as she realised how closely she herself would be involved in his failure. Her mother had declared that it was her duty to encourage Ned in his quixotic scruples; but surely, surely, it was also Ned's duty to consider her interests, and to be ready to sacrifice his scruples, if they threatened injury to the future which she had agreed to share!

Lilias was as angry as it was in her nature to be, but her love of approval made her unwilling to exhibit herself in so unamiable a mood, and she rushed upstairs to the porch room to recover her composure before joining her sisters in the garden. The worst of belonging to a large family, however, is that it is exceedingly difficult to secure privacy, and, as fate would have it, who should be seated in the porch room but Nan herself, the very last member of the household whom Lilias would have wished to meet in the circumstances. Her flushed face and tearful eyes could not escape attention, but while Maud would have been tactfully silent, Elsie sympathetic, Agatha gushing, and Christabel apparently unconscious, Nan must needs stare with all her eyes, whistle like a schoolboy, and exclaim inelegantly—

"Halloa! What's up? What in the world are you in a rage about now?"

"Now," indeed! As if she were in the habit of flying into rages every ten minutes of the day! As if it were not universally acknowledged that she had the sweetest temper in the family! Lilias felt more irritated than ever, and would have enjoyed nothing so much as taking the big blundering creature by the shoulders and giving her a good shaking. She controlled herself, however, and answered with a gallant attempt at pathos—

"Rage is hardly the word, Nan. I am very, very miserable. You don't understand, and I am not at liberty to explain the reason. I am in trouble—horrible trouble!"

"Humph!" quoth Nan sceptically. "Doesn't seem to have a chastening effect upon you. It affects us all differently, I suppose. I should have said you were in a savage rage, if you'd asked me!"

"But I didn't ask you, you see, and it is very wrong of you to judge. If I could tell you the truth, you would realise your mistake, but I must keep my own counsel."

"Of course, of course! Don't tell me, I beseech you; I can't keep a secret if I'm paid for it," said Nan calmly, and with an absence of curiosity altogether maddening to the listener. There was nothing Lilias wanted more than to be coaxed to tell her trouble and pose as a suffering martyr, for her sister's benefit. She flounced out of the room in high dudgeon, and Nan stopped her work and looked after her with thoughtful eyes.

"This is the beginning," she said tragically to herself—"the beginning of the end!"



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

NED IN TROUBLE.

When Ned Talbot arrived a fortnight later, his face showed that his anxiety had been no imaginary thing. He looked, indeed, so worn and aged, that his friends were shocked to see him, and tears of commiseration rose in Lilias's pretty eyes. The consciousness that Ned looked to her for consolation roused a natural womanly tenderness in her heart, and nothing could have been sweeter than her behaviour on the day of his arrival. As for Ned himself, fresh from the grim northern town, with the everlasting clang of machinery sounding in his ears, it seemed a very foretaste of paradise to find himself in the fragrant southern garden, seated beneath the shade of the trees, with Lilias's lovely face smiling upon him. He told her as much in lover-like fashion, and she protested modestly, and smiled more angelically than ever for the rest of the evening, in order to live up to her reputation.

"We won't talk about disagreeable things to-night! We will just be happy!" she said coaxingly; and Ned assented, only too thankful to banish anxiety for a few hours, and to talk sweet nothings among the flowers. Lilias was the most delightful plaything in the world, and queened it over him with such amusing little airs of sovereignty, that he asked nothing better than to play the part of adoring slave. So the first evening passed happily enough; but the next day brought the lovers face to face with reality. When a great anxiety is tugging at a man's heart, it is not possible to banish it for more than a few hours at a time, and Ned yearned for his sweetheart's sympathy, and felt a corresponding chilling of heart when she persistently checked his confidences, and tried to continue the playful banter of the first interview. He could not respond, could not laugh and jest and pay compliments; the cloud of coming disaster seemed to blot out the sunshine, and the light words jarred upon his ears.

"It is no use, dear; I am sorry to be such a doleful companion, but I cannot pretend to be cheerful. You must bear with me, for my anxiety is on your account even more than my own," he told the girl tenderly. "I cannot bear to think of bringing anxiety upon you, when I had hoped instead to have shielded you from it all your life; but trouble is said to draw hearts more closely together, and if we stand shoulder to shoulder now we may find unexpected sweetness in the midst of our trial."

He looked at Lilias entreatingly, and she gave a forced little smile.

"I should like to know exactly what the trial is, Ned. You have said a good deal about being unhappy in your letters, but nothing really definite. I can understand that, after being your own master, it is trying to accept a subordinate position, and that many little things jar and fret you, just because it is a new thing to be under subjection. It is certain to be trying at first, but if you have patience—"

Ned stopped her with an exclamation, half amused, half irritated.

"Patience—patience! My dear girl, you don't understand of what you are talking! You surely don't imagine that it is about my own dignity that I am anxious! I should not allow any personal slight to disturb my equanimity, for I did not make this change without counting the cost."

"But it is so different when it comes to the test. However brave you have resolved to be, you cannot help being annoyed and fretted. I know! Oh, I know quite well," declared Lilias, with an elaborate forbearance which seemed to have an irritating effect upon the hearer. He drew in his lips, as if struggling against a hasty reply, and when he spoke it was in a tone of studied moderation.

"Come and sit down, dear, and let me thrash this out! It is your right to know exactly how matters stand, and I will try to explain them to you. What affects me affects you now, so I look to you to advise and counsel. No one can help me as you can; no one has so much right to speak; so let me begin at the beginning, and try to make all clear to your dear little mind. You know that at my father's death I had to give up my own dream of going into a profession, in order to carry on the Works for the benefit of the family. It had been decided that Frank, the second boy, should take this place, but he was still a youngster, and could not then have taken so responsible a post. It was a blow to me, for it was anything but the sphere which I should have chosen, and it was hard to have to give up all my own dreams—"

"It must have been! I can sympathise with you, for I know the feeling. Nothing tries me more than to have my plans upset, and it is constantly happening in a house like this, where there are so many others to consider. And it must have been bad for the business too, for you knew nothing about it, and had no experience—"

Ned coloured, and made an uneasy movement with his shoulders. As a matter of fact, his early days of authority had been accompanied by mistakes which he had been glad to forget, though he had mastered the details of the business in a surprisingly short space of time. It was not pleasant to hear a reminder of his inexperience from the lips of his fiancee, and he could not stifle a reflection that it would have been kinder on her part to have spared him even so covert a reproach. He tried to hide all signs of annoyance, but there was an edge in his voice as he replied—

"I was inexperienced, no doubt, though perhaps not so much so as you imagine. All my life I had been accustomed to spend a great deal of time at the Works, and as I grew up my father had taken me into his confidence about his growing anxieties, for even in his days he was beginning to feel the strain of competing with the bigger firms. The day for small men is over, Lilias, and one by one the private manufacturers go under, ruined by the struggle to compete with the great firms who are backed by practically unlimited capital. It was a dying cause which I had to fight, and I became more and more convinced of the folly of holding on until everything was lost; and then, in the very nick of time, as it seemed, our most powerful rivals stepped forward and offered to take over our business and to give me the post of manager. There could be no doubt about accepting such an offer, and all my friends rejoiced with me in the belief that the lean days were over, and that a long lease of prosperity lay ahead."

"But why did they make you such an offer when your business was so bad as you say? I can understand that it was a capital thing for you, but where did they come in? They must have had an idea that it was for their advantage as well as for yours, or they would not have tried to get you," said Lilias, with a shrewdness that brought the smiles back to her lover's face.

"Why, what a cute little woman!" he cried fondly. "She grasps the position at once! Yes, of course, they made the offer for their own advantage, not mine, for, you see, dear, there were a certain number of good old-fashioned customers who still kept to us, and their business was well worth having, though not valuable enough to make our Works pay when the smaller orders dropped off. By taking over our connection they made a considerable addition to their profits, even allowing for the handsome salary given to me. Looking at the offer from a business point of view, I saw no reason to doubt its good faith, but six months' experience has raised some ugly doubts. More than once of late I have felt convinced—"

"Of what? What are your doubts? What do you believe they mean to do?"

Ned jumped to his feet, and stood facing the girl, with clenched hands and a face convulsed with emotion. His eyes flashed, the veins stood out upon his forehead.

"I believe that they mean to suck my brains,—to get all they can out of me,—experience, introductions, connections, to suck me dry as they would an orange, and then throw me on one side! I believe that the salary was a bait to bribe me to give up my independence, and that it did not matter to them that it was unusually large, since at the very moment of offering it they had determined that my lease of office should be of precious short duration. They cannot, for shame's sake, for their own reputation's sake, dismiss me already, but in a hundred ways they are bringing pressure to bear; in a hundred ways which you could not understand, they are making it impossible for me to go on,—forcing me into resignation—"

"Oh, hush, hush! Don't get excited. You frighten me when you are so fierce. I am sure you are mistaken. You are worn out after all these years of anxiety, and imagine what is not true. I am sure they do not want to get rid of you; and if they did, what does it matter, since you say yourself they dare not dismiss you? Come, be a good boy, and be happy with me, and forget all about this horrid old business. All men have worries, but they should try to forget them when they come home! I give you full notice that I shall forbid business to be mentioned in our house when we get one."

The glance which accompanied these words was meant to be irresistibly coaxing; but, so far from being sobered yet, Ned seemed goaded into fresh irritation.

"Worries! Worries! You call it by a contemptible little name like that, when I am face to face with ruin,—when our whole future is trembling in the balance? Don't you understand that there are things that a man may not do, and that orders may be put upon him which he cannot obey and preserve his self-respect? He may be forced to resign even when he would gladly work his fingers to the bone, if by any fair means he could keep his post?"

"Ah-ah!" cried Lilias, with a deep, indrawn breath, as if now, at last, she had come to the real pivot on which the question hung. "Ah, yes, Ned, I understand that if you once get the idea in that romantic head of yours that you are being coerced to do what is not according to your lights, there is an end of all peace until you are undeceived! We have known you so long, remember, and heard all about your college days from Jim. 'Don Quixote,' they called you, because you were always taking up high-flown notions of duty. It was delightful at Oxford, and such a good example to the other men; but in business—you can't keep it up in business, Ned! I am only a girl, but I hear people talk, and I know quite well how it is. It is impossible to make a living at all, if you are too particular what you do, and are always stopping to consider other people besides yourself. You say that you were beaten by the other firms when you were managing your father's Works, and now you will let yourself be beaten again, if you give way to these foolish prejudices and scruples."

Lilias finished with a breathless gasp, and Ned stood looking down at her in silence. An expression of absolute horror had grown in his eyes as he listened to her words, and now he threw himself down on the chair beside her, and grasped her hands in appeal.

"Lilias! Lilias!—don't! Don't speak like that, darling! My little white girl, don't turn pleader against me! You are to be my helpmeet, my good angel, the inspiration of my life; don't begin by wishing me to do less than my best! I am not imagining difficulties—you know I am not—but even if I were, would it not be better to lose something for conscience' sake, than deliberately to sell myself for gain? I am in great perplexity, Lilias, and need all my courage. I beseech you not to discourage me!"

His words were, in effect, a repetition of Mrs Rendell's on the same subject, and now, as then, Lilias was shocked into a softer, more unselfish frame of mind. The ready tears started to her eyes, and her voice quivered with emotion.

"Indeed, indeed, I long to help you! I would not hinder you for the world. I was trying to reconcile you to your position—to save you, if possible, from worse trouble in the future. I know you will never consent to do what is wrong, but if you are firm and patient, all may still be well. It is worth trying, at least, for if you threw up this post what is to happen next? You would have nothing to do."

"I could always earn a salary of a few hundreds a year. If they have done nothing else, these last years have given me a thorough technical knowledge of my own business, and that has a marketable value nowadays. With the influence of the old name to back me up, I could find some firm ready to take me in and give me a subordinate post. If I had only myself to think of, I should not worry my head, for I have never had any ambition to be a rich man; and the mater has her private income—I need not be anxious about her. The change would fall heaviest on you, and it is of you I think. I meant to give you a home worthy of yourself, with every luxury and comfort, but that may not be possible now. Can you forgive me, dear, for bringing all this trouble upon you?"

He looked wistfully into the lovely face, and Lilias pressed her lips together, staring fixedly at the ground. At that moment she could not bring herself to say that she forgave him, or to express any complaisance at the thought of the future. Imagination ran riot, and she saw as in a picture a little house in a smoky manufacturing town, and shrank with distaste from its narrow walls and meagre furnishings. Yes, indeed! Ned might well declare that she was the greatest sufferer, and it was only right that he should pity her. If this breakdown had happened three months before, her parents would not have consented to her engagement, and it should have been his duty to be well assured of his position before involving another, as she was now involved. The swelling of resentment grew so strong, that, against her better judgment, it forced itself into speech.

"You seem fated to misfortune! It follows you wherever you go. But this cannot all have sprung up within the last two months. You must have known something about it in March,—in April,—before you spoke to me!"

From the flash in Ned's eyes she feared that he was about to make some hot reply, but he checked himself, and answered with gentle forbearance. Only, if she had had eyes to see it, the shadow had fallen deeper than ever over his face, and his shoulders bent, as if an additional burden had fallen upon them.

"No, Lilias, I knew nothing! I would never have proposed to you if I had not honestly believed in my good prospects. The difficulty has arisen since then; but don't be afraid, I shall not urge you to any sacrifices on my behalf. I will work hard, and you shall stay at home until I can give you all you desire. I will not ask you to share a poverty which you dread so much."

"I wouldn't mind it for myself. It is of you I think!" murmured Lilias sweetly. "I should love nothing so much as to help you, Ned, but I am such a useless little thing that I should only be a drag. If it had been Maud, it would have been different. Maud is cut out for a poor man's wife, and would be blissfully happy living on twopence-halfpenny a week, and making it go as far as half a crown, but I am so stupid. My money seems to fly away, and I could not be economical if my life depended on it."

Ned sighed, and looked round the garden with a wistful air.

"I wish Maud were at home!" he said. "She is always so good and helpful. It puts new strength in a man to hear her talk. The house does not seem like itself when Maud is away!"



CHAPTER NINETEEN.

GERVASE VANBURGH.

"Humph!" remarked Miss Nan to herself the next afternoon, as she watched the lovers pacing the garden walk, "Humph! unless my eyes deceive me, relationships are strained between our dear young friends. The atmosphere seems charged with—not electricity, but an amount of ice which is suitable neither to the season nor the occasion. Strikes me, I'd better be out of the way! I'll do an act of charity to another and a good turn to myself at one and the same time, and go and have tea with Diogenes!"

She spoke with a certainty of welcome, justified by the delight with which Mr Vanburgh invariably greeted her appearance, for she had discovered that nothing pleased him so much as to see her running in and out of the house, popping in for ten minutes' chat on her return from a walk, or livening a dull afternoon by taking her work across the road, and stitching by his couch. This latter attention had also brought about the happy results of interesting the invalid in the coming sale, and more than one of Nan's efforts was bought before it was completed, thereby affording that young lady a terrible temptation to scamp the work which remained. On the present occasion, however, she was in a lazy mood, and frowned sternly on her conscience, when it suggested that she should make use of the opportunity to finish a certain table centre. No, indeed, she decided, she would do nothing of the kind. Unwilling work was invariably a failure, and she felt no vocation to do anything more energetic than sit still and eat Mr Vanburgh's delicious cakes, and drink Mr Vanburgh's excellent tea.

She stood up then, and, as a preliminary step, regarded herself critically in the mirror, for among other things which had been borne in upon her concerning her new neighbour, one was that he was exceedingly fastidious about appearances, and as sharp as a needle to discover any discrepancies in her attire. He was too polite to put his criticisms into words, but his face spoke volumes, and certain historic occasions, when she had sat smarting beneath the consciousness of a missing button or a crooked tie, had made a lasting impression on the mind of the careless young woman. Nowadays, however fleeting might be her visit to the Grange, she never went without a careful examination of her appearance. A shop window answered the purpose of a mirror, if nothing better could be found, and one morning, as Agatha and Christabel walked along the village street, they had been reduced to a state of speechless amazement by discovering Nan twisting and turning before the wired windows of the Bank, with as much concern for her appearance as though she had been Lilias herself.

On the present occasion there were only a few stray locks to be pinned in order, and then the glass reflected a charming picture of happy girlhood. The pique skirt was fresh and neat; the pink shirt belted in by a natty white band, and the dark hair curled softly round the fresh bright face. Nan stared at herself solemnly, contorting her face into the curious, strained expression with which nine women out of ten regard themselves in a mirror, twisted round, to be sure that her belt showed no unsightly gap, pulled her tie accurately into the middle of her collar, and finally fastened on a sailor hat, and ran gaily across the street. She did not go to the front door this time, for—unique and extraordinary sign of favour—to her, and to her alone, had been granted permission to use the garden gate, enter the house by the side door, and so make her way upstairs unannounced. Mr Vanburgh had been anxious to put every facility in his favourite's way, for only an invalid can appreciate the brightness which had come into his life since this merry- hearted girl had taken compassion upon his loneliness. To see her bonnie face peering in at the door, to hear her ringing laugh, and listen to her voice, was better than any tonic, and seemed to put fresh strength into his feeble body.

Up the stairs, then, Nan ran, and made straight for the study where the invalid spent his afternoons. The door was closed, but to wait to announce her arrival by a knock was a proceeding far too dignified for one of her impetuous nature; she merely turned the handle, thrust a mischievous face round the corner, and announced boldly, "I've come to tea!"

There was no answering exclamation of delight, and Nan had just discovered, with a gasp of surprise, that the couch was empty, when a tall, fair-haired man rose suddenly and confronted her.

"Oh," cried Nan, and stood agape with astonishment.

"I beg your pardon," drawled the stranger, and stared back out of a pair of handsome, sleepy eyes, "You—er—you expected to see Mr Vanburgh; I am sorry to say he is not very well—"

"Not well? Oh dear, I'm sorry! And are you the doctor?—Have you come from town?"

"Oh no!" The tall man smiled, as if, for some reason, the idea seemed quite preposterous to his mind. "I am not the doctor. I am Mr Vanburgh's nephew. I was coming to visit him shortly in any case, and as I heard that he was not well, I thought it better to come down and see for myself exactly how he was."

"Of course. I am so vexed that I did not know about it, but I have been so busy this week that I have not seen him since Sunday. He is really ill? In bed? Not able to get up?"

"He has kept in bed for two days, but is coming in presently to join me at tea, so I hope that you—er—you will fulfil the intention with which you came!" and the speaker smiled at the pretty girl with a sudden lighting of the sleepy eyes. He was thinking to himself what a marvellous difference her coming had made in the aspect of the dim, solemn room. All day long he had roamed about the house and grounds with the eerie feeling of being alone in an enchanted castle, where a spell of sleep was laid on the occupants. Wherever the eye lighted, some rare and costly treasure greeted the sight; the great rooms opened one into the other, while rare Venetian mirrors reduplicated the tapestries on the walls and seemed to open out fresh vistas before the eye. It was a palace among houses, a very storehouse of treasures, but the want of life chilled the blood in the young man's veins. Not a human soul to be seen but the silent-footed servant with his foreign tongue, and the crippled master, dead already to all that makes life worth living! All day long he had been alone, struggling with a depression which seemed to close more and more heavily around him; but here, at last, was a creature like himself, young, radiant, full of life, with the glow of health and happiness on her rosy cheek. His glance was so undisguisedly friendly that Nan responded to it with a smile, and seated herself forthwith on her accustomed chair. Shyness not being a complaint by which she was troubled, she saw no reason for refusing the stranger's invitation, or for disguising the keen interest which she took in his own individuality.

"Thank you; I'd like to stay," she said frankly. "I am so pleased to meet you, for I know all about you. 'Gervase Farrington Vanburgh',"— she checked off each word on uplifted fingers, and nodded her head with an air of triumph at the completeness of her information.

"'The Boundaries, Lipton, Devonshire.' I have posted ever so many notes to you, and once I addressed an envelope. Perhaps you remember my scrawly writing, with long tails to the letters? We were dreadfully disappointed that Mr Vanburgh had no daughters, for we have not many friends of our own age, but he tried to console us by saying that you were coming to pay him a visit. I asked him especially to arrange it for June, for we shall have our brother home then, and several things going on which will make it livelier than usual. We have made all sorts of plans for your amusement!"

"That is kind; I appreciate it very much. I have heard of you too, and of the pleasure which your acquaintance has given my uncle. He was giving me an account of you all last night, from which I have no difficulty in recognising you from your sisters. You are Miss Lilias!"

"Lilias!—I! Good gracious! Whatever made you think that?" gasped Nan, staring at him with eyes so clear and honest, that, though an adept in the gentle art of flattery, Gervase Vanburgh found himself incapable of explaining the reason of his mistake. He could not tell Nan Rendell that, after hearing Lilias described as the beauty of the family, he had at once identified her with the charming figure whose presence had brought sunshine into the gloomy house. He murmured some vague excuse, while Nan proceeded to expatiate on the difference between herself and her sister. "Lilias is fair, and I am dark; she has golden hair, and is quite grown up and staid and proper. I am supposed to be grown up too, in the afternoons and in the evenings, but the mornings are my own, and then I am disgracefully young, and behave as badly as if I were a child again. I wish I were! I shall never be so happy again as I was in the dear old school-days." Nan's eyes roamed wistfully across the road to the porch room, where Elsie's sleek head could be seen bent over her work, with Agatha and Christabel vaguely outlined at the table; then suddenly her face lit up with mischievous smiles. "If they could only see me!" she told herself ecstatically. "If the girls could see me sitting here talking to this strange young man! They'd have a fit! They'd go crazy with excitement! I must, I must lure him to the window, and let them see us together! They will never believe me unless I do." She looked up, to meet Gervase's eyes fixed upon her, and found inspiration in his first remark.

"You are looking at your own house, are you not? It is exactly opposite this, I think. My uncle pointed it out to me last night."

"Yes, just opposite. It stands on the road, as this one does, but we have a lovely garden behind. You can see a little bit of it from here!" and wily Nan led the way to the window, secure of bringing Gervase in her train, and keeping him in evidence until it pleased her to finish her explanations. The appearance of her own light dress was sufficient to attract Elsie's attention; but what of the agitation of the three at sight of her companion? Elsie fled into the background—"The better to see you, my dear,"—and Nan's keen eyes could discern the three patches of white made by the gaping faces, the while she smiled and posed, far more for their benefit than that of her companion. Presently Elsie disappeared, and Nan knew as well as if she had heard the words spoken, that the object of her flight had been to bring the opera-glasses from the drawing-room, when the three would take turns to stare at the stranger, and speculate as to his identity. In the first mischievous enjoyment of the moment she found it impossible to face her companion, but when at last she did venture to meet his glance she was vastly impressed by his appearance. A superfine specimen indeed, this Gervase Vanburgh, with his frock-coat, well-creased trousers, and immaculate linen. Even Nan, the unnoticing, noted the faultlessness of detail which characterised his attire, and had an instant perception that Ned Talbot would look rough and countrified by his side, and even Jim himself suffer from the contrast. Evidently this was a dandy of the first water; yet, despite his languid bearing, his face was full of intelligence, and decision of character was proclaimed in the large nose and square, clean-cut chin.

"What a mercy I tidied my hair!" sighed Nan to herself; and at that moment the door opened, and in came the Italian servant, pushing his master before him in the wheeled chair in which he was moved from one room to another. The invalid was looking more death-like than ever, but his face lighted with pleasure at the sight of Nan, while she ran to the sofa and arranged his cushions with loving solicitude. When he was settled she knelt beside him to exchange greetings, putting her hand on his with a caressing gesture, and he held it firmly while he replied, as if gaining strength from the contact. Gervase Vanburgh thought he had never seen so typical a picture of youth and age as that made by his uncle and the bright-faced girl, and mentally contrasted this welcome with the one given to himself the day before. His uncle had never shown such pleasure on his arrival; but he felt no jealousy of the girl who was so evidently preferred before himself; for, whatever his faults might be, he was free at least from any tinge of self-seeking. The lazy smile lingered on his face as he listened to the exchange of question and answer.

"This is a pleasant surprise, little woman! When did you come across? I did not hear of your arrival."

"Bounced in ten minutes ago, and had such a fright to find a stranger here instead of you. Why didn't you send at once to tell me that you were worse?"

"Because I could not have seen you if you had come. On my bad days I am best alone; but I am pulling round again, and am glad to have Gervase's company. You have made each other's acquaintance, I see! I suppose neither had much difficulty in guessing the identity of the other."

"He thought I was Lilias!" said Nan, glancing at Gervase with laughing eyes. "Think of that! He will be surprised when he sees her, won't he? But I knew who he was in a moment. Now, tell me honestly, would you rather I went away? I came meaning to stay to tea, but if you don't feel able to talk to two people at once I'll come again when you are alone. I won't be a scrap offended!"

Mr Vanburgh smiled.

"I am sure you would not, but I should like you to stay, please. We want you to pour out tea for us; and I won't attempt to talk, but just lie still and amuse myself listening to you."

"But I never can be amusing when I try,—can you?" said Nan, appealing to Gervase with a friendly smile. "The girls at home think I am amusing, because I generally say the wrong thing at the wrong moment, which may be entertaining to them, but is very poor fun for me. Maud says I speak first and think afterwards; but what can I do? I once made a vow to cure myself of being impetuous by counting twenty slowly before I began to speak, and I kept it religiously two whole days. They seemed like a month; and if I had persevered I should have become dumb, for by the time I had counted twenty the conversation had hopped on to another subject, and any remark was hopelessly out of date! So now I have gone back to my old ways, and say my say, and take the consequences."

"You don't look to me as if you were given to making painful remarks," Gervase remarked in a conciliatory tone, and Nan straightened her back in defence of her own behaviour.

"Wouldn't hurt a fly! That's the worst part of it. For I am so soft- hearted over other people's woes, that I shed tears regularly every time I meet a tramp, and he tells me that he is a discharged seaman who has lost his certificate, and only needs four and sixpence to take him to a port where he is certain to find fresh work. They always have lost their certificates and want a railway fare, but I can't help relieving them and handing-over last Saturday's money. But a tender heart is not much use if you make awkward remarks and quote people's own doings to their faces, as capital jokes against somebody else! I got into terrible trouble in that way with a caller only the other day, and if I had had any sense I should have stopped in time, for I had plenty of warning. Her face grew all stiff and rigid, and I wondered what in the world had given Elsie such a cough all of a sudden. Is there any cure, do you think, for a habit like this—anything I could do to make myself careful?"

There was a pause while the two men looked at the eager face, smiled, and grew sober, as the question awoke memories from their own past.

"A practical kindness of heart, Nan, which is not satisfied with facile tears and offerings, but takes continual thought of the feelings of others!"

"Or a severe lesson!" added the younger man thoughtfully. "If you wounded some one very near and dear, and saw them suffer through your thoughtlessness, you could never forget it. I learnt that for myself long ago, when—"

But Nan heard no more of what he said, for, with a flash, her eager mind had leapt to the solution of the mystery. More love! That was what was needed. Love, the cure for every human fault. She applied the test to her own experience, and found it abundantly proven. Had any word or deed of hers hurt Maud through the period of ultra-sensitiveness through which that dear sister had passed? Ten thousand times, no! On the contrary, she had been quick to ward off blows, to turn dangerous conversations into new channels, to stand between the sufferer and the world. Where she loved it was obvious that she could show both care and tact; it was want of love which lay at the root of her thoughtless acts and speeches. Gervase looked up at the conclusion of his story, to find the girl staring blankly across the room, with a glimmer of tears in the brown eyes, and was at a loss to guess the meaning.

"I'll begin this instant, and love every one in this world!" Nan was saying to herself determinedly. "It will be fatiguing, but so good for my character. I'll think of what they will like, and what I can do for them, and spend my time in good works. What can I do now for these two men? It's no credit pouring out tea, for I want some myself; but I might do something for that poor Gervase to-night, when Mr Vanburgh goes to bed, and he is left alone. He looked dolefully dull when I came in, and I believe he would enjoy coming across and seeing us all, as he has heard so much about us. I'll ask him anyway, and see what he says."

The idea was so pleasant that the dimples came back to greet it; she looked across at Gervase with a brilliant smile, and struck amazement to his heart by inquiring blandly—

"Would you like to come to dinner with us tonight?"

Gervase Vanburgh stared, as well he might, at so informal an invitation. His uncle also struggled with a smile, and Nan, tardily conscious of her lack of formality, plunged headlong into explanations—

"I meant to say that it will be lonely for you after Mr Vanburgh goes to bed, and I am sure mother would be delighted to see you. We have Ned Talbot, a friend of Lil—of my brother Jim staying with us, so that there would be two other men to keep you company. When father and Jim are away, we never ask gentlemen to the house, for mother says seven women at one time are too great a tax on any man's nervous system; but you wouldn't be afraid of us when there were two other men, would you? The schoolroom girls don't come down until after dinner, so we are really only three."

Gervase Vanburgh laughed aloud, and Nan looked up with a quick flash of approval, for a laugh has a tell-tale sound, and this one rang unmistakably honest and true.

"I am not in the least afraid," he cried boldly. "I'd like to see you all, school-girls included. It is most kind of you to think of it, and if Mrs Rendell will really allow me, I shall be delighted to accept your invitation."

So Nan ran across the street, and entered the house with the great news that Gervase Vanburgh had arrived, and—given a formal invitation—was coming that very evening to make the acquaintance of the family.



CHAPTER TWENTY.

AMONG THE ROSES.

By no one was the news of Gervase Vanburgh's advent greeted with more enthusiasm than by Lilias herself, for, truth to tell, the day had seemed interminably long in the company of a depressed and anxious lover. The points of view from which Ned and herself regarded his position seemed to grow more hopelessly far apart the more it was discussed, and the consciousness that he was disappointed by her lack of sympathy did not tend to raise Lilias's spirits. If the question at stake had not touched the all-important subject of future comfort, she would have been willing to sacrifice her own wishes in order to preserve Ned's approval, but in this crisis of their fate she would allow no such weakness. If her own parents seemed to place Ned's scruples before her interests, if Ned himself were so ignorant of what was due to his fiancee as to talk calmly of accepting the position of a clerk on a few hundreds a year, it behoved her to be firm, and make Ned understand that she would never be his wife until he could provide something more than the bare necessaries of life. Nevertheless, the task of opposition was far from pleasant, and the grave wonder of his glance cut like a knife into her vain little heart.

It was a relief to know that the presence of a stranger would prevent further reference to the subject for this evening at least, while the Vanburgh nephew and heir was in himself a sufficiently interesting person. Lilias put on her prettiest dress, and sat trifling with a book until the company had assembled in the drawing-room, and the time was ripe for an effective entrance, when she glided into the room, and smiled sweetly at the stranger, while Nan watched his face with mischievous enjoyment. He was surprised—there was no mistake about that! When Lilias raised her face to his, he gave a distinct little start of surprise, and the sleepy eyes looked for once quite wide-awake and animated.

"And the stupid fellow actually mistook me for her!" chuckled Nan to herself, with that pride in her sister's beauty which the Rendell girls shared so loyally, looking upon it as a family possession which reflected credit on one and all. "That's one mistake he will never make again, however much confused he may get among six sisters!"

Conversation at the dinner table was of a general character; but every now and then Nan found an opportunity of exchanging a few quiet remarks with Gervase Vanburgh, who sat next herself, the result of which was to assure her that she had found a character as diametrically different from her own as it was possible to imagine. She was full of energy, he was languid to the verge of apathy; she had hard and fast opinions to offer on every topic, known or unknown, while his "Don't know!" and "Couldn't say!" repeated themselves with wearisome echo. She was afire with ardour, with enthusiasm, with the burning desire to right all wrongs, redress all evils, bring peace on earth, and start the millennium without a moment's delay; judging from appearances, he seemed incapable of any sort of emotion, and possessed with the conviction that nothing was really worth taking any trouble about.

Nan grew irritated beyond measure, wriggled about on her seat, shrugged her shoulders, and crumbled her bread, unconscious alike of her father's smiles and her mother's frowns, and, when actions failed to relieve her feelings, was forced into emphatic speech.

"Nothing interests you, nothing gives you pleasure! You care for nothing, you hope for nothing! I wouldn't be like you for the whole wide world!" she declared; and Gervase Vanburgh fixed his melancholy eyes upon her, and said tragically—

"And I would give the whole wide world if I could once more care and hope like you!"

This was disconcerting. Nan had not expected so speedy a concession, and she followed her mother from the room oppressed by the remembrance of that melancholy look, and consumed with curiosity as to its cause. Money anxiety it could not be, seeing that Mr Vanburgh's heir need never fear want; but a broken home, disappointed love, and faithless friendship held out wide avenues for speculation. Nan sat and pondered, listening meekly to her mother's reproofs, while inside the dining-room Mr Rendell could not resist putting a home question to his visitor.

"You were amused by my little girl's enthusiasm! I saw her growing hot and eager, and had a strong suspicion that you were leading her on! She is a most fervent young person, and cannot understand being less than in deadly earnest over any question."

"She is er—refreshingly young!" replied Gervase in his soft, drawling voice. He took no notice of the charge made against himself, but went on peeling his fruit with an air of pensive exhaustion, at which the two elder men exchanged glances of amusement. He looked at once so young, so healthy, and so prosperous, that this affectation of depression had somewhat of a ludicrous air to men who knew the world and had acquaintance with real and pressing anxieties. Ned Talbot looked across the table at the handsome youngster, and heaved a sigh to the memory of the good old days when he also was happy enough to invent troubles, and philosophise darkly concerning unknown woes. He had come south with a heart heavy with care, yet with an expectation of comfort which had taken away half the sting, but that hope had been doomed to disappointment, and on the morrow he must return to his work with an added fear in his heart. Could it be that he had been mistaken in Lilias? As a man eating a soft bloomy peach jars his teeth suddenly against its stone, so had Ned found himself confronted with a hardness in his fiancee's nature which had brought with it a shock of disillusionment. Surely, surely, if a girl were ever to be sweet and sympathetic to the man whom she had promised to marry, it was when he was threatened by misfortune; but Lilias evidently refused to believe in his version of affairs, and cherished a grudging conviction that he was sacrificing her to romantic scruples. He had talked, and pleaded, and reasoned—it was like hitting one's self against a wall. She never swerved from her position, her voice never lost its tone of studied toleration; and now he sat, the poor fellow! listening dreamily to the conversation between the other two men, too weary and depressed to take any active share in it himself.

When a movement was made towards the drawing-room half an hour later, however, Lilias was discovered leaning against the lintel of the window, looking so young, so sweet and fragile, that every chivalrous instinct rose up in her defence. Such a girl was not made to endure hardships, Ned reflected tenderly. The man who was lucky enough to own her should be prepared to carry all burdens on his own shoulders. He was ready! Oh yes; if Lilias would but love him faithfully, he would work for her with the strength of twenty men. He was eager to tell her so, to apologise for his harshness of the afternoon; and, stepping past into the garden, he caught her hand in his, and tried to draw her away.

"Come, dear, come! Let us walk round the garden. I want to speak to you alone."

Lilias laughed, gave a caressing little squeeze to his hand, but stood firmly in her position. Gervase Vanburgh and her father were approaching, and a general conversation seemed at the moment more interesting than a tete-a-tete with her lover. So far she had had little opportunity of speaking to the stranger, and his appearance both interested and perplexed her. The air of languid elegance which provoked Nan, filled her sister with admiration, yet there was something baffling in the expression of the sleepy eyes. Lilias had an uncomfortable impression that those eyes might be very keen on occasions, and would have suspected a quizzical expression at the present moment, had the idea not been so palpably absurd. Why should Gervase find anything amusing in her attitude? It was surely a most natural thing that she, as the eldest daughter at home, should wait for the gentlemen, while her sisters went out into the garden, and, that being so, where should she stand, if not by the window? Nevertheless, the slow, quiet smile which followed his glance around, sent the blood into her cheeks, and seemed to intimate that he was as well aware as herself of the appropriateness of the background, and the care which had devised that seemingly careless pose! So disconcerted was she that she would have been inclined to retire in Ned's company had he pressed his request a second time, but he was silenced by the first refusal, and the little group stood together exchanging commonplaces, until a white dress appeared among the rose-bushes, and Nan's voice called out an unabashed summons—

"I thought you were never coming! Why don't you come out? It's perfectly lovely here. The roses smell so delicious in the dusk; and oh, father, there are two whole flowers on the little pink-belled saxifrage you brought home from Norway!"

"No!" cried Mr Rendell in tones of incredulous ecstasy, which stamped him on the spot as one of the noble army of gardeners. He hurried forward to inspect the new treasures, while Nan went down on her knees to hold up their tiny heads and expatiate on their fragile beauty. When she arose five minutes later, she found two surprises awaiting her, the first being the presence of Mr Vanburgh by her side, and the second, alas! two large green stains on her white skirt, in the middle of the front seam, where she had knelt on the dewy grass. Her face of dismay as she pointed downwards evoked a laugh from the two men, but Mr Rendell checked himself, glanced over his shoulder towards where his wife paced to and fro, and said quickly—

"Better run upstairs, dear, and change it. No need to be distressed; you have plenty more, I suppose, and it will wash."

Nan groaned in a sepulchral fashion, and shook her head.

"You don't understand! It's an evening skirt with trimmings, not an ordinary pique. My very best too! I put it on because Mr Vanburgh was coming, and now it's spoilt!"

"Oh, surely not! Don't say that; it makes me feel so horribly guilty. Let me try if I can rub it off," cried the visitor eagerly; and, before Nan could protest, out came a superfine hemstitched handkerchief, and Gervase began rubbing the damaged skirt with such vigour, that the stains grew larger and larger, and increased their borders so rapidly that they met and blended in one great whole. His face lengthened with horror as he withdrew his handkerchief, and gazed upon the results of his labour; and Nan said dismally—

"Thank you so much! It's much worse now! Wish I were old enough to wear black always, and not be bothered. My life's a burden to me because of my clothes!"

"For the mother's pride the child must suffer pain!" cried Mr Rendell, laughing. "That is what Kitty said, isn't it, when her mother insisted on pinning down the end of her collar? Better confess at once, Mops, and get it over! Tell your mother she can send it to the cleaner's, and I'll stand the racket."

"Come and tell her yourself. D-oo, ducky darling! Sweetest father in all the world, come and plead for me!" coaxed Nan, hanging on to his arm, and rubbing his face with her soft cool cheek, while he affected to push her away, and in reality allowed himself to be led where she would take him.

Mr Vanburgh followed, stroking his moustache to conceal his smile, and Mrs Rendell's quick eyes saw their approach, and fixed themselves sternly upon Nan's ruined skirt.

"Another accident, Edith, worse luck! The grass would get damp, and Mops and I were so interested in looking at our plant that we forgot everything else, and—"

"So I observe! It is a pity, but I am not surprised. What can one expect from Nan, but destruction!" Mrs Rendell spoke with melancholy resignation, while the assembled sisters looked on with solemn eyes. Dainty Lilias, pensive Elsie, kindly Agatha, Christabel the immaculate, they stood gazing in a solid phalanx of disapproval, while Nan the culprit hung her head and flushed with embarrassment. A moment later Mrs Rendell had turned the conversation into another channel, unwilling to prolong the present discussion in the presence of a stranger, and Nan seized the opportunity to escape to the far end of the garden. Gervase Vanburgh stood in her path, and spied the glimmer of tears on the dark eyelashes as she passed by. Then she disappeared, and Elsie's chin dropped with amazement as she saw the elegant stranger deliberately mark a stone on the path, and kick it savagely with the toe of his patent leather shoe.

"Bland of exterior, but concealing beneath the surface secret and violent impulses!" Such was the character given to Gervase Vanburgh in Miss Elsie Rendell's diary that evening; and perhaps for once the youthful author was not far wrong in her conclusions!



CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

A VOW OF FRIENDSHIP.

The next morning at ten o'clock the Italian servant was entrusted with a message from his master which created a wild excitement in the Rendell family. Mr Vanburgh was restored to his usual health, and wished to celebrate that fact, and provide at the same time a little entertainment for his nephew, by giving an alfresco luncheon in the garden, to which he invited his friends at Thurston House. The meal would be served under the beech-tree on the lawn, and Mr Vanburgh hoped to welcome his guests at one o'clock precisely.

"But not all of us! There are six of us—six women—not to mention Mr Talbot. Mr Vanburgh cannot mean to include the school-room party! The elder ones will be delighted to accept, but—"

"Mother!" gasped Christabel. Agatha laid hold of the back of a couch, and prepared to faint on the spot, and the Italian looked from one to the other, a gleam of amusement showing in the dusky eyes.

"My master would be much disappointed, madam. He wishes especially the young signorinas. I am to bear an invitation also to Mrs Maitland and to Miss Kitty."

That settled the matter! If Kitty were going, it would be nothing short of cruelty to keep her companions at home, so Mrs Rendell sent a general acceptance to the invitation, and shrugged her shoulders resignedly as each of the five girls hugged her in turns, and deafened her with questions.

"Mother, what shall I wear?"

"Mother, my pique skirts have not come home from the wash! I wish you would leave that horrid laundry. It's the third time—"

"Mother, will my pink blouse do? It's the nicest I have, and it's only a little bit soiled on the sleeves, and if I wore clean cuffs—"

"Mother, need I change? Can't I go as I am, and be happy? I might want to climb over a fence, and it's such spiky work."

"Mother, I think we should all go dressed alike in white dresses and blue ties, and march across the road in a crocodile. Do let's! It would be such fun!"

Mrs Rendell pressed her hands to her head in distracted fashion.

"If every single one of you is not out of this room in two minutes from now, I'll retract, and send a refusal instead! Get away to your work! I'll see you separately later on, if you want instructions, but surely girls of your age ought to be able to dress without my assistance! The only thing I bargain for is that you are not alike, for that would only accentuate your number, and as it is I feel ashamed to appear with such a battalion."

"Lilias, need we go?" Ned Talbot slid his hand through his fiancee's arm, and drew her into the garden. "If the party is too large, why should we not reduce it by two, and have a quiet little lunch by ourselves? I must leave before four o'clock, and if we go to the Grange it will mean that we have no more time together, for we cannot run away immediately after lunch. Mr Vanburgh would understand our position if we sent an excuse."

"Oh, Ned!" cried Lilias, and the tone of reproach was so eloquent that there could be no mistaking her wishes on the subject. "Oh, Ned, the first time we have been asked! Our first invitation! You couldn't really wish me to refuse it. I should be so dreadfully disappointed. You don't know how much we have longed to be asked, or what castles in the air we have built about this day!"

"Very well, dear; don't trouble yourself. We will do just as you please," said Ned wearily. He tried to convince himself of the reasonableness of Lilias's position, and to show no sign of resentment; but the jar was there all the same, and seemed to set up a barrier between them in all they did and said. If any one had foretold that he should feel time drag heavily in Lilias's company, and cast about in his mind for subjects on which to talk, how he would have derided the idea! yet, alas, it had come true, for he felt a distinct sense of gratitude towards Nan when she thrust her head out of a bedroom window and summoned Lilias to her assistance. When there is no sympathy in the great principles of life, small talks become increasingly difficult, as this poor fellow was discovering to his cost.

Punctually at one o'clock the door of Thurston House was thrown open, and Mrs Rendell was discovered standing upon the threshold, issuing final directions to her flock.

"Stop talking! My dear, good girls, if you insist upon speaking all together, how am I to make myself heard? Pray calm yourselves, and behave like reasonable beings. Don't let me have the humiliation of taking about a crowd of excited children who might never before have been outside their own gate!" Then she marched majestically ahead, with the demure Elsie as her companion, while the engaged couple followed, and each of the three remaining girls fell back in turns to cast a critical glance at her companions. Half-way across the road Nan's belt was discovered to have parted company with the skirt, and the most strategic measures were necessary in order to secure it before her mother reached the door of the Grange.

"And remember, all of you, not to put your arms round her waist! The pin will stick out, whatever I do with it," said Christabel darkly; then the door was thrown open, and the butler led the way across the hall towards the entrance to the garden. Each member of the visiting party was consumed with curiosity to examine the beautiful objects on either side, but had too much ado to keep her footing on the slippery oak floor to have any attention to spare. Lilias clung to Ned's arm, Mrs Rendell and Elsie minced along with tiny footsteps, and Nan waited until no one was looking, and then gave giant strides from one mat to another, or clung to a friendly rail to help her round slippery corners. Then at last the garden was reached, and there, beneath the trees, stood an enchanted table, laden with everything that was beautiful in the way of glass and china, and banked up with a wealth of pink roses.

Mr Vanburgh's couch was drawn up at its head, and Kitty Maitland sat at his side, bearing herself with that preternatural solemnity of manner which she invariably adopted along with her best dress and hat. A moment later Mrs Maitland and Gervase appeared from behind a tree, and the elders shook hands and murmured the meaningless speeches common to such occasions, while Kitty took an early opportunity of stepping to Chrissie's side, and calling her attention to the splendours on the table in a series of awed and breathless whispers.

"Gold spoons! Venetian glass! It breaks if you look at it! I daren't drink a drop out of those tumblers, and I'm so thirsty! Such cream! Such strawberries!—big as peaches, my love, and such lots of them. I feel like the Queen of Sheba. There's no spirit left in me, it's all so grand and gorgeous."

"I like it. It suits me! I was born to splendour!" said Chrissie, with an air. "I call it awfully sweet of him to do the thing so well. But what a dreadful number of knives and forks! I shall never know which to use. I wish I had asked mother about it before we came, for I do so detest making mistakes. Before a butler, too—so humiliating! And yet I don't want to refuse anything I can help!"

"Don't refuse! Take all that comes, and crumble bread until you see how other people eat it. That's my dodge when I go out to lunch with mother. I say, how do you like the nephew? Doesn't he look ex-actly like the tailor's advertisement that you see in the shop windows? I have never seen any man look like that before, and want to pinch him, to see if he is real. Do you suppose it's possible to be so handsome, and yet as nice as if he were ugly, like Jim?"

"Jim! Jim ugly!" gasped Jim's outraged sister furiously. "Gwendoline Maitland, you are raving! Jim is the best-looking man I know, and I'll tell him the moment that he comes home that you said—"

"Jim won't mind. I told him so myself last year. He asked how I liked his moustache, and I said it was 'stubbly,' and he said moral worth was better than brilliantine. There's none of your nasty pride about Jim."

Chrissie glared, but Kitty refused to be annihilated, and crinkled her nose in sauciest defiance, whereupon her companion stared into space with an expression of disdain. An onlooker would have concluded that a serious quarrel had taken place; but such small interludes were of common occurrence in the friendship of these two young women, and five minutes later they were pinching each other in the most amicable manner, and whispering, "Sit by me! Sit by me!" as if true happiness could not be enjoyed apart.

During the meal which followed there was ample opportunity of "crumbling bread," for the Vanburgh cook had received instructions to eclipse himself for the young ladies' benefit, and the succession of curious unknown dishes which he sent to table would have puzzled more experienced "diners out" than the members of the present party. A prettier scene could hardly be imagined than the table under the trees, with the green lawn sweeping away on either side, the foreign servants flitting to and fro, and the six girlish faces of the guests beaming with delighted approval. Elsie's eyes grew large and dreamy, as she mentally rehearsed the most appropriate language in which to chronicle the event in her diary. Such expressions as "Arabian Nights entertainment," "Green sward," and "Princely Splendour," figured largely in the description, which ran to an inordinate length, and still seemed to have left half the wonders untold.

Nan spoke little during the meal, but, like the proverbial parrot, noticed much. She noticed that, though the utmost courtesy was maintained between uncle and nephew, the elder man was evidently annoyed by the persistent nonchalance of the younger; and she had a shrewd suspicion that Gervase knew as much, yet did not trouble himself to rectify it. She noticed that, while Ned was depressed, Lilias's mood was of the gayest and sweetest; and she noticed that Gervase noticed as much, and studied the lovers narrowly from his point of vantage across the table. She heard dear old Agatha discussing politics with her host, and quoting her father wholesale in her gallant attempt to be grown up and important; and she chuckled audibly over the two schoolgirls' enjoyment of the fare. Then at last the meal was over, and she heaved a sigh of relief that all had passed off without catastrophe and with credit to the family. No one had broken the fragile glass, no one had betrayed a plebeian ignorance of the convenances, nor showed ill-bred surprise. They had examined the menu with an understanding air, as though every other name was not as Greek to their ears, and had refrained from any signs of approval more noticeable than pressures of feet under the table, and occasional sly joltings of elbows.

The two ladies stayed beside Mr Vanburgh, while the younger members of the party strolled about the grounds, Gervase Vanburgh first walking with Lilias, and then making an excuse to cross to Nan's side. He smiled as he came, and his first words showed that he had grasped the situation without any need for words.

"I shall get myself disliked if I stay there any longer! Mr Talbot leaves in another hour, I think, so it is hardly fair to him to engross your sister."

"But how do you know anything about Mr Talbot? I never told you," cried Nan in amaze; and Gervase smiled in his aggravating, lazy fashion as he replied—

"Oh no, you simply said that 'a friend of Lil—a friend of my brother Jim' was staying with you at present. That was all, I think. You gave me no information."

"Which means that I did, of course, and blurted out everything in my stupid, headlong fashion," sighed Nan dolefully. "It doesn't matter much in this case, for a good many people know; but mother wishes it kept as quiet as possible, because—"

"Just so. But I assure you that even without your hint I should have discovered for myself that they were at present engaged; so there is no necessity to blame yourself."

Nan wheeled round upon him with flashing eyes.

"Why do you say 'at present'?" she demanded; and Gervase smiled in impenetrable fashion.

"Did I say so? Foolish slip! They are engaged, of course. I wish Miss Lilias every happiness, and congratulate Mr Talbot on his good taste. She is certainly a lovely girl."

"Oh, isn't she?" cried Lilias's sister gladly. "I knew you would say so. You see now how absurd it was to mistake me for her, and what a difference there is between us! I knew quite well you would be surprised."

Gervase Vanburgh put back his head, and stared at her with a scrutiny which was not without a touch of cynicism; but the eager face he met was at once so frank and so honest, that the sneer faded from his lips and gave place to a smile.

"Yes," he said slowly, "there is a great difference. I cannot imagine two people more unlike. You are complete contrasts in every respect."

"She is so fair, and I am dark," sighed Nan, a trifle abashed by so vehement an assent, but striving loyally to conceal her discomfiture. "Lilias is our beauty, and we are all very proud of her; but you cannot really know the family until you have met Maud. Maud is the eldest sister, and the best and sweetest of them all. She isn't pretty, but she is such a dear that every one loves her. 'Maud of all work' Jim calls her, because she is always helping other people and forgetting herself."

"Most exemplary, I'm sure. Excellent example!" drawled Gervase with a yawn, at the sound of which the last trace of Nan's patience gave way. She stood still in the path and fixed him with a glittering eye; but the speech which swelled in her throat was slow in coming, choked back by very excess of emotion. Gervase, in some alarm, demanded the cause of her agitation, and received a straighter answer than he expected.

"I don't care to speak about Maud to a person who only sneers at her goodness. If you don't mind, I'd rather talk about the weather, and the garden, and things that don't matter; and then I can keep as indifferent as you are yourself, and we sha'n't quarrel."

"I sneer! I beg a hundred pardons, Miss Nan, if I have appeared to sneer at anything you say; but I assure you that I have never yet voluntarily sneered at goodness; so that in this instance at least you are doing me an injustice. You must believe me, please, for I am thoroughly in earnest."

"Yes, I see you are. I'm sorry that I misjudged you."

"And I am sorry too. You are sorry, I am sorry, we are both sorry, so now suppose we drop this subject and start afresh. I'd like to be friends with you if you will; for I expect we shall see a good deal of each other in future, and it would distress my uncle if we disagreed. Do you think you could sign a treaty of friendship with me?"

"Well," said Nan slowly—and then paused, too honest to pledge her word without counting the cost—"I could, but I'm not sure that it would last. We are so different. Would you mind answering one personal question?"

"I'll answer fifty with pleasure if it's in my power."

"Then have you known some awful trouble? Has something dreadful, heart- breaking, happened to you, which you are trying to cover up and hide from the world?"

Gervase stared at her in amazement, which ended in a laugh.

"Certainly not! I have had an absolutely smooth life—too smooth, I am afraid, for the growth of character. Now I wonder what made you take such an idea into your head!"

"I thought perhaps your heart was broken, and that was why you took no interest in anything that was going on."

"Do I take no interest? I was under the impression that I took a great deal—sometimes; but I have learned to conceal my feelings. You may not perhaps be aware that English boys are educated in this fashion, nowadays. At a public school it is considered 'bad form' to be enthusiastic on any subject. 'Not bad' or 'pretty decent' are the superlatives of praise, and anything more emphatic is sure to be snubbed. Perhaps I have been too apt a disciple in that school."

"I call it a hateful school! and if I had a hundred sons I would not let one of them be trained under such an influence. If a boy is not to be enthusiastic when he is young, when will he be, pray? Youth is the time for noble dreams, for enthusiasm which carries all before it. It is the enthusiasm of youth which keeps the world moving. None of your languid half-measures for me!" declaimed Nan dramatically, backing into a flower-bed in her earnestness, and trampling half a dozen begonias beneath her heels. "Life is real—life is earnest!"

"It is indeed," cried Gervase, laughing; "and so, if you will permit me to say so, is my uncle's gardener, when he is roused! Begonias, I fancy, are his special passion. Miss Nan, you will have to be friends with me whether you will or not, for our natures are so different that we could be of infinite service to each other. You could inspire me with your own enthusiasm, and I, in my turn, could curb and restrain you."

"But, dear me," cried Nan, "I don't want to be curbed!" Then she looked at the begonias, and her face fell. "But I suppose, like all disagreeable things, it would be good for me; so I'll be friends, if you like, Mr Vanburgh, and take my share of the discipline."

"I feel much honoured. It shall be my endeavour to be as little disagreeable as I can," said Gervase Vanburgh, with his courtly bow; and thus were the deeds signed in a friendship destined to have far-reaching consequences.



CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

LILIAS INTERFERES.

Nan's compact of friendship with Gervase Vanburgh was announced to the family, and received with acclamation by the younger sisters, and with shocked disapproval by grown-up Lilias.

"Most improper!" she pronounced it. "You ought to remember, Nan, that you are no longer a child in the schoolroom, and that such an intimacy with a man of Mr Vanburgh's age is simply another word for flirtation. It is all very well to call it friendship, but everybody knows perfectly well what it means!"

She stopped short with an expressive wave of the hands, and Nan glared at her with flashing eyes.

"If there is one thing more than another that I loathe—and detest—and scorn—and despise," she replied, dropping out each word with vindictive emphasis, "it is looking upon every man one meets in the light of a possible husband, and taking for granted that you can't be civil to him without making a fool of yourself! I don't know quite what you mean by 'flirting,' unless it is giggling and making eyes, as some idiotic girls do; and I am quite sure that I am in no danger of following their example!"

"You know perfectly well, Nan, that it means much more than that; and Mr Vanburgh is a man of the world, and understands exactly to what you are lending yourself. Judging by his manner, I should call him an accomplished flirt!"

"Very well, then, I will ask him about it on the first opportunity. I will tell him what you say, and find out what his ideas are, before things have gone any further."

A gasp of dismay sounded round the schoolroom, for the listeners knew that Nan was perfectly capable of putting her threat into words, and, moreover, that in her present state of indignation it was certain that she intended to do so. Lilias broke into angry protests, but Nan's icy, "Don't be alarmed! I shall not mention your name," showed that the true reason of her discomfiture had been gauged, and she could only hope that no opportunity would occur for the putting of such a question before Gervase left the Grange. In this hope, however, she was doomed to be disappointed; for Mr Vanburgh invited Nan to tea on the following day, and she departed, primed with determination. It seemed at first that she would have no opportunity of broaching the all-important subject; but when tea was over, Gervase proposed a walk round the grounds, and Nan was no sooner clear of the house than she gave a preliminary little cough, and said, in sententious accents—

"Mr Vanburgh, we have agreed to be friends, but I should like to hear, as a preliminary measure, exactly your definition of the term. What is a friend?"

Gervase's eyes twinkled and his lips twitched beneath his moustache, but he made a gallant attempt at seriousness, and replied—

"A friend is a comrade who is faithful not only in words, but in deeds. My friend is one who will make personal sacrifices to ensure my welfare; who will not hear me maligned behind my back, but will reprove me to my face when I have done wrong. My friend is one who cares for me for myself, apart from my circumstances, and will be most loyal and loving in the time of trouble!"

"Bravo! Bravo!" cried Nan enthusiastically. "That's good! I like that! Those are exactly my own sentiments, only I could not have put them into words. I had no idea you were so eloquent. Now, another definition, please. What is a flirt?"

"A flirt!" An expression of the most complete amazement passed over Gervase Vanburgh's face as he echoed the word, for this was, indeed, the last question which he had expected to hear from Nan Rendell's lips.

"You want me to define a flirt? That is a little more difficult, but I will try what I can do. 'One who practises the art of flirting,' the dictionary would tell us, with its usual admirable candour, but that doesn't seem to give much enlightenment. A flirt, I should say, is the antithesis of a friend, for he affects more than he feels; he flatters and makes pretty speeches, while in effect he may be critical and disparaging. He thinks of himself and his own amusement, and is so much concerned for the gratification of his own vanity that he often inflicts serious wounds on the hearts of others."

"So bad as that? Horrid things, how I despise them! I can't imagine how people can make themselves so contemptible. Well, whatever may be my faults, I can honestly say I am not a flirt; but some people are so suspicious that they are always imagining mischief. Some one said to me—I mean, I've heard it said—that when a man and a girl like you and me agree to be friends, it is just another way of beginning a flirtation. It made me very angry when I heard that; but now that I have asked you, I am quite satisfied, for it seems impossible to mix the two things together. You can't flatter a person when you have agreed to tell him his faults; you can't feign a sentiment which is real. I knew I was right, though I could not argue it out; but for the future I sha'n't mind a bit when you say nasty things to me, for I shall feel they are a proof of friendship; and I shall find fault with you on every possible occasion, just to show that I am not flirting, and have only your own good at heart."

Nan stopped short, quite out of breath with eagerness, and Gervase looked at her with a scrutinising smile.

"So!" he was saying to himself, "Somebody said, did she? I wish Somebody would mind her own business, and not put foolish ideas into your innocent little head. Somebody has her own hands pretty full, I imagine, and might be better employed looking after her own affairs;" but aloud he said simply—

"We will make a compact that we will never flirt with each other, but be the truest and most candid of friends; and, to begin as we mean to go on, lay your instructions upon me now for my conduct during my absence. You know my life—an idle one, unfortunately—living in my own place, among my own tenants, in a sleepy little corner of the earth, which affords no opportunity for adventure. I fear I shall come back with no heroic deeds to recount!"

"'Do the work that's nearest, Though it's dull at whiles, Helping, when you meet them, Lame dogs o'er the stiles!'"

quoted Nan impressively. "That's one of my pet verses, which I quote to comfort myself when I am burning to do great deeds, and have to hem dusters instead. Be thankful you are a man, and have not to hem dusters; and try to take an interest in your tenants, and help them over their stiles. I'm sure many of them are lame, and longing for you to come to their aid; and really and truly it would do you all the good in the world to think of something beside yourself!"

"I have never yet found any one who interested me so much; but I will make the effort. And for yourself—look where you are going, think what you are doing, be a trifle more circumspect in coming downstairs and bicycling round corners, and I will hope to meet you again in health and strength and with as few broken limbs as may be at the end of another month. Goodbye, little friend! All good be with you!"

He held out his hand, and smiled upon her in the slow, kindly fashion which already seemed familiar in her eyes, and Nan felt a sudden warmth at her heart, as at the realisation of a new joy in life.

"Good-bye," she cried heartily; "and I'm glad I promised. I'm glad we are going to be friends."



CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

JIM RETURNS.

"In work, in work, in work alway, let my young days be passed, that I may fade away and die, as I am doing f-ast!" sighed Kitty Maitland one afternoon a month later, as she sat in the porch-room, surrounded with a mountain of needlework, on which she was laboriously stitching labels, while the elder girls consulted together as to prices, and Elsie plied an iron at a side-table, smoothing away disfiguring creases and crumples. It was amazing to see the quantity of work which had been gathered together, and nobody was more surprised at the amount than the workers themselves. When the contents of drawers, ottomans, and cupboards had been gathered together and laid on the table, the girls had gasped with amazement. Who could have believed that their little efforts could have achieved such a whole? Who could have credited that friends would have come forward with such generous and ready help? During the last few days parcels had arrived by every post, and from the most unexpected sources; while good, kind Maud had come home from Paris with a box full of spoils from the Louvre and Bon Marche. Lilias declared that her heart leapt within her when she reflected that she had originated the beneficent scheme; but Nan vowed that it made her tired even to look at the things, and reflect how hard-worked she must have been; and Kitty, as has been seen, went in absolute fear of her life!

"I never want to see another pin-cushion so long as I live!" she announced tragically, as she tacked the label on the last of these useful articles, and tossed it impatiently to her companions. "If you charge more than one and six for that beauty, it's a cheat, for it's a regular museum of odds and ends. Heigho! this grows monotonous. Let me go out into the garden and begin preparations there. My master mind is wasted sitting here sewing on labels. I want scope—variety!"

"You can't get it then, until you have finished the work on hand. It ought not to matter to you what you do, so long as you are helping forward," said Lilias severely. "To-morrow morning will be plenty of time to arrange the tables."

"If it is fine! I am sorry to discourage you, but it is raining already. I see five drops on the window-pane," announced Elsie in a tone of satisfaction, born of the remembrance that she had "told them so!" months ago, and that they had refused to believe her; but her triumph was short-lived, for the girls only laughed at her five drops, called her their "faithful croaker," and altogether played such havoc with her dignity that she retired within her shell in displeasure. Had the occasion been less important, she would have flown to her room to pour out her woes to the ever-sympathetic diary; but no personal slight could be allowed to interfere with work to-day, for at four o'clock Jim would arrive, and never should it be said that the Rendell girls were engaged on their own devices when the one and only brother returned to his home! The first few hours after Jim's arrival could be spent in no other way than gazing upon him, in drinking in his words, and hanging around him in adoring admiration.

By four o'clock the porch-room was abandoned, and each sister, attired in her best blouse and freshest skirt, was craning her head out of the dining-room window, while Kitty Maitland hovered in the background, scarcely less excited than themselves. He came. He stepped out of the fly, paid the cabman, and lounged up the path, lifting his head to nod in patronising fashion to his adorers. He was no Apollo of beauty, no Samson of strength, but just an ordinary-looking young man in an ordinary grey suit, with ordinary irregular features redeemed from plainness by an expression of quizzical good humour; yet each of the eight beholders gave a gasp of adoration as she beheld him. His mother's eyes swam with tears as she embraced her boy; Maud felt a ray of pure, unselfish happiness; even Lilias overlooked the fact that his collar was of an unfashionable shape in the delight of meeting. As for the younger girls, they fell upon him, and hugged and kissed, and kissed and hugged again, until he was obliged to beat them off with his long grey arms.

"Now, then! Now, then! Leave a fellow alone! I won't stand being mauled to death!" cried the ungrateful male, scrubbing his cheek with his handkerchief, as if contaminated by the touch of so many feminine lips. "Take it easy, and I'll speak to each in turn, but I can't tackle the bundle together. Where's Maud? Where's my Maud? Come over here, Maud, and don't let these youngsters keep you in the background! Holloa, Nan, what's the matter with your back hair? Done it up, eh? Doesn't look half so well, you know, but I suppose you take it out in honour and glory. Best respects, Lilias; how's the young man? You kiddies are getting too tall—that's what's the matter with you. I shall feel quite an old man at this rate. Do you mean to say that is 'Cath-er-ine Maitland' I see before me? Kitty, my own! How large you have grown!"

"Jim, you rude man! Behave, if you can!" retorted Kitty with admirable promptitude. It was an old habit of these two to converse in couplets, though Kitty lived in chronic dread of an hour when she should fail to invent an appropriate reply. Her present success filled her with satisfaction, and evoked a burst of laughter from her companions; and though Jim rolled his eyes at her in threatening manner as he entered the drawing-room, he refrained from a further effort, and devoted his attention to the admirable tea provided for his benefit. His sisters waited upon him obsequiously, while his mother sat with folded hands gloating over the sight of the tall, masculine figure seated in state on the centre of the sofa. What joy to behold him again—her only son, her pride, her darling! How she glorified him, and exulted in him, and rejoiced in every evidence of his beautiful manhood! The sight of the thick-soled boots gave her a positive thrill of joy; she looked unmoved at the mud on the carpet, and did not even wince when he crumpled her best silk cushion behind his back.

Jim looked across, caught her glance, and flashed back an answering message which made her heart swell with joy. Her boy loved her, and had no fear to meet his mother's eye! That was all she wanted to know, and she knew it without further questioning. Jim was not given to words; and even if he wished to speak, how could the poor boy get a chance, with seven excited girls all talking to him at the same moment?

Jim listened blankly for some moments before he could understand the drift of the remarks, but gradually the words "Sale" and "Bazaar" disentangled themselves from the clamour and awoke a dim remembrance.

"Oh, the sale for the Mission! You did tell me something about it! Coming off to-morrow, is it? That's a bore! Why didn't you get it over before I came?"

The girls shrieked aloud in dismay, and, under cover of their protests, Maud whispered an eager—

"Take an interest in it, do! They have worked so hard, poor dears, and they want you to help!"—which had the effect of rousing him to the importance of the position.

"All right, girls, I'll see you through!" he announced, with the self- confidence which a man assumes as if by instinct in discussions with his womenkind. He had the vaguest ideas of what was expected, no knowledge at all of the difficulties of the position; but it never occurred to him to doubt his own ability to overcome these difficulties, and put the final triumphant touch on the girls' labours.

"I'll see you through!" he repeated; and his sisters chorused their thanks and murmured grateful acknowledgments, while Kitty Maitland kept silent and eyed him askance through her spectacles, registering a vow to speak faithfully on the subject of masculine vanity on the first convenient opportunity.

The next morning each of the six Rendell girls awoke with a start and a shiver of dismay. What had happened? For a moment they could not tell, yet a cloud of depression was there; and then, alas! in each case a glance at the window answered the question. Down fell the rain, splashing the panes, soaking the trees, turning the paths into pools of water, weighing down the heads of flowers, and scattering blossoms over the grass. Alas and alas! it was almost too dreadful to be believed, that after weeks of fine weather such a downpour should time itself to arrive on the very day of the long-expected sale.

"If Elsie says, 'I told you so!' I shall do her an injury. I shall—I know I shall! I sha'n't be able to help it!" protested Nan; but Elsie made no such statement. To do her justice, she deeply regretted her prophecy, and felt as much distressed as if she were to blame for its fulfilment, while her morbid mind had much ado to countenance such unreasonable behaviour on the part of Providence.

"I don't understand why it is allowed to rain when so much depended on good weather! The work won't look half so well cramped up in the house, and we can make no money on the river, and the people who live at a distance will think it too wet to turn out, and it will all be a dead, dismal failure. It seems to me very strange that we should try to do a good deed only to be frustrated by something over which we have no control," she lamented; and though the other girls snubbed her promptly, it was difficult to banish the same thought from their minds. If only, only it had kept fine, how different it would have been, and with what glee and zest they would have set about their preparations! As it was, they were all more or less depressed, and had it not been for Jim's presence they would have been a sorry company; but Jim rose to the occasion with such a succession of quips and jests, such schoolboy tricks and merry whistlings, as could not fail to be infectious. He was not much use, so far as arranging the work was concerned; but, as he himself expressed it, he played the part of beast of burden, dragging tables into the library, fitting them together to take the place of stalls, and undertaking a dozen onerous duties. With the best will in the world, however, it was impossible to make the room larger than it was, or to prevent an amount of crowding which left many precious treasures hidden from sight, instead of being displayed in the sunshine of the garden. The girls sighed, and resolutely turned their eyes from the window; and thus it happened that certain things took place which they were far from suspecting. Whether the rain had spent its strength, or was put to shame by the sight of the mischief it had already wrought, it would be difficult to say; but certain it was that the downpour changed gradually to a drizzle, the drizzle grew lighter and lighter until it ceased altogether, the clouds rolled away to the east, and through the grey of the sky there broke a feeble, struggling light. Brighter and brighter it grew, stronger and stronger, until of a sudden a ray of sunshine danced across the floor of the room, and electrified its occupants in the midst of their work.

"What's that? What's that? The sun! The sun!" cried every one in chorus, and a stampede was made to the door to see if the good omen could possibly be true. The ground was soaking with moisture, but oh, the freshness, the sweetness, the delightful earthiness of the scent which greeted their nostrils!

"Mff!" cried Nan, opening her mouth wide to draw in deep breaths.

"Ouf!" gasped Agatha rapturously.

"Do my eyes deceive me? Has it actually stopped raining?" cried Christabel elegantly; and Jim executed a jig of triumph on the doorstep.

"It has stopped indeed! The clouds have rolled away, the sun is coming out; in another hour it will be beaming, and you will have such a day as you have not had for weeks past. I told you so! If you had only listened to me, you would have been spared all your misery. I told you so—"

"Excuse me! You did nothing of the kind. You remarked to me on my arrival that it looked 'Jolly bad, and that it was going to be a brute of a day,'" interrupted Kitty severely; but Jim affected a convenient deafness.

"Now then," he cried, "all hands to the pumps! I'll set James to work to mow the lawn, and by the time it is cut and swept and the sun has shone on it for a couple of hours it will be as dry as tinder. We'll have the paths swept too, and put a few planks across where the water has settled, and all will be as right as a trivet. Put on thick boots, and set to work to undo all you have done this morning. There is no time to lose!"

There was not, indeed; but willing hands made light work, and a more cheery band of workers it would have been difficult to find. To see Nan rushing in and out of the house, clad in a short bicycling skirt, with snow-shoes covering her slippers, and Jim's cap stuck on the back of her head, was a sight funny enough to have cheered the most melancholy of patients; but when she executed a dance of triumph before her completed stall, her sisters held their hands to their sides in convulsions of laughter. A deeper laugh joined in with theirs, a lazy musical laugh, which could only have come from one person; and Nan, hearing it, wheeled round fully prepared to see Gervase Vanburgh standing before her. Not one whit disconcerted did she appear at the sight; but, holding out her skirt on either side, so as to display the huge cloth boots to the fullest advantage, she dropped him a curtsey and cried, "Pleased to see you, sir! I hope you admire me!"

"I do!" said Gervase in his soft drawl; and there was an accent of sincerity in his voice which brought Jim's eyes upon him in curious scrutiny. A word from Lilias had introduced him to this heir of the Mr Vanburgh of whom he had heard so much, and now he eyed him narrowly, forming his own swift conclusion.

"Dandified! Affected! Fine face, though; good expression! Decent fellow, I should say, if the nonsense were knocked out of him. Uncommonly pleased to see Nan, too. This must be looked into!" Then he was obliged to laugh again at the downright fashion in which his sister demanded the reason of the stranger's sudden appearance.

"What have I come for?" Gervase raised his hand deprecatingly. "To see if I could be of any use, of course. My uncle was anxious to know if he could lend anything in the way of tents or bunting, or if you would like one of his gardeners to come across and help your man. A hamper of strawberries is to be sent over presently, with the palms and plants, and the cook is concocting something very special in the shape of ices, but you are to ask for anything and everything you want. He is most anxious to help."

"Bless him!" cried Nan devoutly. "Give him my love, and say that I shall thank him on my bended knees the moment the rush is over. The gardener would be most useful, for James has more than he can do, and we are all taken up with our own special departments."

"And for myself? Can I do nothing to help you? I came last night on purpose for this sale, so I hope you will make me of use." He looked at Nan as he spoke, but it was Lilias who replied, taking him at his word, with an assurance which virtually monopolised him for the entire afternoon.

"Oh, thank you so much; then will you please help me in the punt? I am going to take out small parties at sixpence a head, and intended to ask Jim to help me; but as he knows the people, it would be better if he were free to walk about, and make himself agreeable. Will you walk down to the river with me now, and have a little practice? Jim will send across for the gardener, and we ought to try how we get on together, oughtn't we?"

"Certainly we ought. It is most necessary," replied Gervase, and his face was absolutely devoid of expression. Whether he was disappointed or pleased, annoyed or elated, it was impossible to guess, but he turned aside without another word and followed Lilias down the path which led riverwards.

By three o'clock preparations were completed, and everything done that could be thought of to exhibit house and garden in their most favourable light. In the drawing-room the best cushions and table-covers were displayed in all their glory; in the dining-room the table was set out with the precious china tea-service, which saw the light only on festive occasions, while every silver article was polished up to reflecting point. Seven girls robed in robes of spotless white flitted to and fro in the garden, while Japanese umbrellas made picturesque splashes of colour amongst the green. The visitors were polite enough to declare that it was well worth paying the admission fee to see so pretty a scene, and were altogether in such an affable frame of mind that they were the easiest of preys. Nan's objects of "bigotry and virtue" were speedily purchased, while Kitty and Christabel did a roaring trade in toffee and confectionery. Agatha looked wistfully at their empty stalls while she displayed pinafores and petticoats to the county visitors, heard them murmur "Very useful!" and rustle on without dropping a solitary sixpence into her box; but she consoled herself by the reflection that her turn would come later, when the villagers arrived to make their purchases, and meantime frequent doses of strawberries and fruit salad helped to sustain drooping spirits.

Elsie smiled pensively across a mountain of fancy articles, Maud helped her mother to receive the newcomers, Jim flirted violently with all the prettiest girls, and Lilias was a vision of loveliness as she punted admiring crews up and down the stream.

Gervase Vanburgh had attired himself for his work in the most immaculate of flannels, and as he stood behind his companion plying his long pole, it is safe to say that every feminine beholder remarked to her own heart that the young people were made for each other, and that it would be a sin to divide such a beautiful couple! It was true that there was some talk of an engagement to an old family friend, but as it was not officially announced it could not be binding, and dear Lilias would do well to reconsider her position, now that this charming stranger had appeared upon the scene!

Dear Lilias smiled back with sweet unconsciousness as she met her friends' glances, but she was at no difficulty to read their meaning, and heaved a sigh for the contrariety of fate. If only, only, it had been Gervase instead of Ned—or rather, if the positions of the two men could be reversed! It would be delightful to float along the stream of life as they were even now floating down this sheltered river, a charming companion by her side, the eyes of friends turned admiringly upon her. How different from the life before her in the bleak North- country town, with poverty and anxiety for daily guests, and Ned's worn face looking sadly at her from across the table!

Lilias shivered for all the blazing sunshine, and her heart swelled with anger. It was not fair, it was not right that her future should be blighted in this fashion. Ned should realise that she was not bound by a promise given in completely different circumstances! It was some days since she had heard from him, for his letters had been less frequent of late; and though at the bottom of her heart she knew that her own chilly replies were to blame for this diminution of her lover's ardour, she chose to count his silence as still another offence. He was neglecting her, and she would not stand it. Like a flash of inspiration it darted into her head that she would free herself from this entanglement while there was still time. It would seem unwomanly to desert a man in the hour of misfortune, but she would act at once, and not wait until the worst happened. She would tell her mother that she was not happy; and though Mrs Rendell might disapprove her past promise, she would never persuade her to keep it in the circumstances. Yes, yes! she would be free, she must be free, and then—who could say what would happen then? The long summer lay before her, with its intimate friendship with one of the richest and most charming of his sex. Lilias raised her head with a gesture of determination, and met Gervase Vanburgh's eyes fixed steadily upon her. His glance did not waver as it met hers, and she blushed beneath it with a new and strange feeling of discomfiture. It was as though that steady gaze had pierced beneath the surface, and read her poor, unworthy thoughts.



CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

THE GARDEN SALE.

"Forty-three pounds seven and twopence, nearly fifty pounds, my darlings, in solid coin of the realm, and all of our amassing!" cried Nan three hours later, as the last visitor drove away from the door of Thurston House, and the contents of the cash-boxes were counted over by half a dozen eager workers. "Here's a triumph for us, for our hopes never soared above a modest twenty pounds, and where it has all come from, I don't know! A great deal of work is left, so that, I fear me, our friends must have wasted their substance on eating and drinking and riotous living, as exemplified by sails in the punt. I could have sold my carvings three times over, and the compliments which were showered upon me I would blush to repeat! My cheeks ache with smiling polite acknowledgments, and indeed I'm nothing but a mass of aches from head to foot. How on earth do poor girls manage to stand behind a counter all day, and not snap off the customers' heads? My poor feet are in a lamentable condition!"