above, and brackens of all shades of brown, green, and yellow beneath.  And it was charming to see Herbert’s ways with the old woman—­a dainty old dame, such as is grown in the upper ranks of service, whom he treated with a hearty, bantering, coaxing manner, which she evidently enjoyed extremely.  His reading, for he did come to more serious matters, was very good—­in a voice that without effort reached deaf ears, and with feeling about it that did a great deal to reassure his sister that there was something behind the big bright boy.

But by the time he had done the honours of all the pheasants, and all the dogs, and all the ferrets, and all the stuffed birds, and all the eggs (for the keeper was a bit of a naturalist), and had discussed Mr. Frank’s last day’s shooting, it was so late, that Jenny had only just time to walk back to the Hall at her best pace, to see Mrs. Poynsett for a few minutes before luncheon; and her reception was, “Is that Herbert’s step?  Call him in, my dear!—­You must make the most of your sister, Herbert.  Come in to all meals while she is here.”

He heard with gratitude—­his sister with consternation.  If forenoon pastoral visits were to be on that scale, and he dined out whenever he was not at school or at church, how would his books fare? and yet she could not grudge his pleasure.  She could not help looking half foolish, half sad, when she met the Rector’s eye.

Julius thought so much of her advice, as to knock at Cecil’s sitting-room door, and beg to ask her a question; and as she liked to be consulted, she welcomed him hospitably into that temple, sacred to culture and to Dunstone—­full of drawings, books, and china.

“I was thinking,” he said, “of offering Anne some parish work.  I wanted to know if you saw any objection?”

“Certainly not; I have not been able to make acquaintance yet with all our tenants, but they seem quite to understand the difference in our positions,” said Cecil, with due deliberation.

Julius choked his amusement, and waived that point.  “But did you not feel obliged to decline her services at the Wil’sbro’ work-room?”

“That was quite another thing.  What was most undesirable in such an institution would be all very well for your old women.”

“What kind of thing?”

“Talking piously, giving away texts, and so on; just the way to make the women think we intended to impose religious instruction and give a sectarian character, defeating our own object.”

“Was there any flaw in what she said?”

“I can’t tell what she said.  It was just a little murmur over the work.”

“Not preaching?”

“Not in that sense,” said Cecil, with a little compunction.

“I am glad to hear it; it makes a great difference.”

“You see,” said the lady, “our institution is merely intended to support these women in the time of want; and if we were to couple our assistance with religion we should just sink into a mothers’ meeting, and make the women think—­”