“I tell you, Rosamond, I know them infinitely better than she does.  She never saw them since Lady Tyrrell’s marriage, when Eleonora was a mere child; now I saw a great deal of them at Rockpier last year.  There was poor Jamie Armstrong sent down to spend the winter on the south coast; and as none of his own people could be with him, we—­ his Oxford friends, I mean—­took turns to come to him; and as I had just gone up for my degree, I had the most time.  The Vivians had been living there ever since they went on poor Emily’s account.  They did not like to leave the place where she died you see; and Lady Tyrrell had joined them after her husband’s death.  Such a pleasant house! no regular gaieties, of course, but a few friends in a quiet way—­music and charades, and so forth.  Every one knew everybody there; not a bit of our stiff county ways, but meeting all day long in the most sociable manner.”

“Oh yes, I know the style of place.”

“One gets better acquainted in a week than one does in seven years in a place like this,” proceeded Frank.  “And you may tell Julius to ask any of the clerics if Lenore was not a perfect darling with the Vicar and his wife, and her sister too; and Rockpier is a regular tip-top place for Church, you know.  I’m sure it was enough to make a fellow good for life, just to see Eleonora walking up the aisle with that sweet face of hers, looking more like heaven than earth.”

Rosamond made reply enough to set him off again.  “Lady Tyrrell would have been content to stay there for ever, she told me, but she thought it too confined a range for Eleonora; there was no formation of character, though I don’t see how it could have formed better; but Lady Tyrrell is a thoroughly careful motherly sister, and thought it right she should see a little of the world.  So they broke up from Rockpier, and spent a year abroad; and now Lady Tyrrell is making great sacrifices to enable her father to come and live at home again.  I must say it would be more neighbourly to welcome them a little more kindly!”

“I should think such agreeable people were sure to win their way.”

“Ah! you don’t know how impervious our style of old squire and squiress can be!  If even mother is not superior to the old prejudice, who will be?  And it is very hard on a fellow; for three parts of my time is taken up by this eternal cramming—­I should have no heart for it but for her—­and I can’t be going over to Sirenwood as I used to go to Rockpier, while my mother vexes herself about it, in her state.  If she were up and about I should not mind, or she would know better; but what can they—­Lenore, I mean—­think of me, but that I am as bad as the rest?”

“Do you mean that anything has passed between you?”

“No, not with Lenore.  Her sister spoke to me, and said it was not right when she had seen nothing but Rockpier; but she as good as promised to stand my friend.  And when I get to the office, in two years, I shall have quite enough to begin upon, with what my mother allows us.”