“Ah, those studies!”

“To tell the truth, that’s what I am most uneasy about.  I take care he should have two hours every forenoon, and three evenings every week, free; but when a man is in his own neighbourhood, and so popular, I am afraid he does not get many evenings at home; and I can’t hinder Bindon from admonishing him.”

“No,” said the sister; “nothing will stir him till the examination is imminent; but I will try what I can do with him for the present.  Here he comes, the dear old idle fellow!”

“Joanie, here you are at last, in conclave with the Rector.  Lady Rose wants me to sing, and you must accompany me.  No one is so jolly for picking one up.”

‘Picking one up’ was apt to be needed by Herbert, who had a good ear and voice, but had always regarded it as ‘bosh’ to cultivate them, except for the immediately practical purposes that had of late been forced on him.  The choral society had improved him; but Jenny was taken aback by being called on to accompany him in Mrs. Brown’s Luggage; and his father made his way up to him, saying, “Eh, Herbert! is that the last clerical fashion?”

“’Tis my Rectoress who sets me on, sir,” was Herbert’s merry answer, looking at her.  “Now, Lady Rose, you’ll keep me in countenance!  My father has never heard you sing Coming through the Rye.”

“No, no, Herbert, my singing is only to amuse little boys.  Here’s the higher order of art!”

For Cecil was leading a young lady to the piano, and looking as if she by no means approved of such folly, though everybody had listened to the Poor Old Cockatoo, laughed and applauded heartily; and the ensuing performance seemed to be unappreciated by any one except Raymond and Cecil themselves.

Anne was sitting in a corner of the sofa, with a straight back and weary face, having been driven out into the throng by the old friends who came to sit with Mrs. Poynsett; but she brightened as Miss Bowater took a seat beside her, and accepted her inquiries for Captain Charnock far more graciously than the many which had preceded them.  Was not her likeness in his album?  And had he not spoken of her as one whom Anne would like?

Soon Joanna had led her to tell not only of Miles’s last letter, but of those from Glen Fraser, of which she had spoken to no one, under the impression that nobody cared.  She even spoke of the excellent farm and homestead which Mr. Van Dorp wanted to sell before going to the Free State, and which her father thought would exactly suit Miles.

“Does he mean to settle there?”

“Oh, yes; he promised me to leave the navy and take me home as soon as this voyage is over,” said Anne, eagerly.  “If the Salamanca only puts in for long enough, he might run up to Glen Fraser, and see Bocksfeld Stoop, and settle it all at once.  I am sure he would be delighted with it, and it is only two miles from Mr. Pilgrim’s.”

“I’m afraid you can never feel this like home,” said Jenny.