“They are not in this parish.”

“No, but they turn up here—­the ladies, at least—­at all the services at odd times that Bindon has begun with.”

“Ah! by the bye, is Herbert Bowater come?”

“Yes, the whole family came over to his installation in Mrs. Hornblower’s lodgings.”

“I saw him this morning, poor old Herbs,” added Frank, “looking uncommonly as if he felt himself in a strait waistcoat.”

“What, are there two curates?” demanded Cecil, in a tone of reprobation.

Julius made a gesture of assent, with a certain humorous air of deprecation, which, however, was lost upon her.

“We never let Mr. Venn have one,” continued Cecil, “except one winter when he was ill, and then not a young one.  Papa says idle young clergymen are not to be encouraged.”

“I am entirely of Mr. Charnock’s opinion.  But if I have exceeded the Dunstone standard, it was not willingly.  Herbert Bowater is the son of some old friends of my mother’s, who wanted to keep their son near home, and made it their request that I would give him a title.”

“And the Bowaters are the great feature in the neighbourhood,” added Frank.  “Herbert tells me there are wonderful designs for entertaining the brides.”

“What do they consist of?” asked Rosamond.

“All the component parts of a family,” said Frank.  “The eldest daughter is a sort of sheet-anchor to my mother, as well as her own.  The eldest son is at home now.  He is in the army.”

“In the Light Dragoons?” asked Rosamond.  “Oh! then I knew him at Edinburgh!  A man with yellow whiskers, and the next thing to a stutter.”

“I declare, Julius, she is as good as any army list,” exclaimed Charlie.

“There’s praise!” cried Frank.  “The army list is his one book!  What a piece of luck to have you to coach him up in it!”

“I dare say Rosamond can tell me lots of wrinkles for my outfit,” said Charles.

“I should hope so, having rigged out Dick for the line, and Maurice for the artillery!”

Charlie came and leant on the mantel-shelf, and commenced a conversation sotto voce on the subject nearest his heart; while Cecil continued her catechism.

“Are the Bowaters intellectual?”

“Jenny is very well read,” said Julius, “a very sensible person.”

“Yes,” said Frank; “she was the only person here that so much as tried to read Browning.  But if Cecil wants intellect, she had better take to the Duncombes, the queerest firm I ever fell in with.  He makes the turf a regular profession, actually gets a livelihood out of his betting-book; and she is in the strong-minded line—­ woman’s rights, and all the rest of it.”

“We never had such people at Dunstone,” said Cecil.  “Papa always said that the evil of being in parliament was the having to be civil to everybody.”

Just then Raymond came back with intelligence that his mother was about to go to bed, and to call his wife to wish her good night.  All went in succession to do the same.