‘Oh, mother, how good you are to me!’ returned Lesbia, and her blue eyes were shining with joy.  When Mrs. Fullerton had left the room again she told me that she had often cried herself to sleep with the longing to be in her old home again; she loved every flower in the garden, every animal about the place, and she grew quite bright and cheerful as she planned out her days.  No, there was nothing morbid about Lesbia’s nature; she was an honest, well-meaning girl, who had had a great disappointment in her life; she meant to outlive it if she could, to be as happy as possible.  A wise instinct told her that her best chance of healing lay in country sights and sounds:  the fresh gallop over the downs, the pleasant saunter through the sweet Sussex lanes, the sweet breath of her roses and carnations, would all woo her back to health and cheerfulness.  When the pretty colour came back into Lesbia’s face her mother would not regret her sacrifice; and then I remembered that Charlie’s friend Harcourt Manners lived about half a dozen miles from Rutherford, and always attended the Pinkerton dances, and he was a nice intelligent fellow.  But I scolded back the foolish thoughts, and felt ashamed of myself for entertaining them.

I parted from Lesbia very affectionately, for she seemed loath to say good-bye, but I knew poor Jill would be grumbling at my absence; the others were dining out, and I had promised to join the schoolroom tea, which was to be half an hour later on my account, but it was nearly six before I made my appearance, very penitent at my delay, and fully expecting a scolding.

I found Jill, however, kneeling on the rug, making toast, with Sooty in her arms; she had blacked her face in her efforts, but looked in high good-humour.

’Fraeulein has gone out for the whole evening:  that freckled Fraeulein Misschenstock has been here, and has invited her to tea and supper.  Mamma said she could go, as you would remain with me, so we shall be alone and cosy for the whole evening.  Now, you may pour out tea, if you like, for I have all this buttered toast on my mind.  I am as hungry as a hunter; but there is a whole seed-cake, I am glad to see.  Now, darling, be quick, for you have kept me so long waiting.’  And Jill brushed vigorously at her blackened cheek, and beamed at me.

But, alas! we had reckoned without our host, and a grand disappointment was in store for us, though, as it turned out, things were not as bad as they appeared to be at first.

I was praising Jill’s buttered toast, for I knew she prided herself on this delicacy, and she had just cut herself a thick wedge of the seed-cake, which she was discussing with a school-girl’s appetite, when I heard Uncle Brian’s voice calling for Ursula rather loudly:  so I ran to the head of the staircase, and, to my surprise, saw him coming up in his slow, dignified manner.

‘Look here, Ursula, I shall be late at the Pollocks’, and your aunt and Sara have gone on, and there is Tudor in the drawing-room, just arrived with a message from Cunliffe.  Of course we must put him up; but the trouble is there is no dinner, and of course he is famished:  young men always are.’