“This is an anatomical study instead of a clock,” lamented Frank.  “I say, Cecil, do you like your friends to sit in their bones, like Sydney Smith?”

“I never saw such a stupid old set of conservatives!” broke in Rosamond, feeling for Cecil’s mortification.  “In an unprejudiced eye the room looks infinitely better, quite revivified!  You ought to be much obliged to Cecil for letting you see all her beautiful things.”

“Why don’t you favour us with yours?” said Charlie.

“I know better!  Mine aren’t fit to wipe the shoes of Cecil’s!  When I get into the Rectory you’ll see how hideous they are!” said Rosamond, with the merriest complacency.  “Couvre-pieds to set your teeth on edge, from the non-commissioned officers’ wives; and the awfullest banner-screen you ever saw, worked by the drum-major’s own hands, with Her Majesty’s arms on one side, and the De Courcy ones on the other, and glass eyes like stuffed birds’ to the lion and unicorn.  We nearly expired from suppressed laughter under the presentation.”

Then she went round, extorting from the lads admiration for Cecil’s really beautiful properties, and winning gratitude for her own cordial praise, though it was not the artistic appreciation they deserved.  Indeed, Cecil yielded to the general vote for the restoration of the humming-birds, allowing that, though she did not like stuffed birds in a drawing-room, she would not have banished them if she had known their history.

This lasted till Charlie spied a carriage coming up the drive, which could be seen a long way off, so that there was the opportunity for a general sauve qui peut.  Cecil represented that Rosamond ought to stay and receive her bridal visits; but she was unpersuadable.  “Oh no!  I leave all that for you!  My time will come when I get into the Rectory.  We are going in the dog-cart to the other end of the parish.—­What’s its name—­Squattlesea Marsh, Julius?”

“Squattlesford!” said Charlie.  “If Julius means to drive you, look out for your neck!”

“No, it’s the other way, I’m going to drive Julius!—­Come along, or we shall be caught!”

Cecil stood her ground, as did Anne, who was too weary and indifferent to retreat, and Frank, who had taken another view of the carriage as it came nearer.

“I must apologize for having brought nothing but my father’s card,” said Lady Tyrrell, entering with her sister, and shaking hands:  “there’s no such thing as dragging him out for a morning call.”

“And Mr. Charnock Poynsett is not at home,” replied Cecil.  “He found so much county business waiting for him, that he had to go to Backsworth.”

“It is the better opportunity for a little private caucus with you,” returned Lady Tyrrell, “before the meeting to-morrow.  I rather fancy the gentlemen have one of their own.”

“Some are to dine here to-night,” said Cecil.

“We ladies had better be prepared with our proposals,” said Lady Tyrrell.