“The sea at Filey Bridge, and the Church Congress at Leeds,” he answered, smiling.

“Very shocking, is it not, Cecil?” said Rosamond, with mock gravity; “but he must be forgiven, for he was tired to death!  I used to think, for my part, that lovers were a sort of mild lunatics, never to be troubled or trusted with any earthly thing; but that’s one of the things modern times have changed!  As he was to be going, all the clerical staff of St. Awdry’s must needs have their holiday and leave him to do their work; indeed, one was sent off here.  For six weeks I never saw him, except when he used to rush in to say he couldn’t stay; and when at last we were safe in the coupe, he fairly went to sleep before we got to the first station.—­Hush! you know you did!  And no wonder, for he had been up two nights with some sort of infidel who was supposed to be dying.  Then that first week at Filey, he used to bring out his poetry books as the proper sort of thing, and try to read them to me on the sands:  but by the time he had got to the bottom of a page, I used to hear the words dragging out slower and slower—­

Whereon the—­lily—­maid—­of—­Astolat
Lay—­smiling—­like—­a—­star-fish—­fast—­asleep.”

Wherewith Rosamond dropped her head and closed her eyes; while the brothers shouted with mirth, except Frank, whose countenance was ’of one hurt on a vulnerable side.’

“Disrespect to Elaine?  Eh, Frank?” said Charlie; “how many pegs has Julius gone down in your estimation?”

Frank would not commit himself, but he was evidently at the era of sensitiveness on the poetical side.  Cecil spoke for him.  “How very provoking!  What did you do to him, Rosamond?”

“I kept off the sand-flies!  I can’t say but I was glad of a little rest, for I had been packing up for the whole family for ten days past, with interludes of rushing out into the town; for whatever we had not forgotten, the shops had not sent home!  Oh! what a paradise of quiet it was under the rocks at Filey—­wasn’t it, Julius?”

“We will go there again next time we have a chance,” said Julius, looking blissful.

“I would never go again to the same place,” cried Cecil.  “That’s not the way to acquire new ideas.”

“We are too old to acquire new ideas, my dear,” drawled Rosamond, sleepily.

“What did you go to the Church Congress for!” asked Charlie.

“I hope Julius was awake by that time,” said Frank.

“Not if we are to have all the new ideas tried on us,” said Raymond, dryly.

“I went to a Congress once!” exclaimed Cecil.

“Indeed!” said her husband, surprised.

“Yes.  We thought we ought to encourage them.  It was the Congress of Sunday-school managers for our archdeaconry.”

“Did you acquire any new ideas?” asked Frank; while Rosamond’s very eyelashes seemed to curl with suppressed diversion.

“Oh yes.  We explained our system of tickets, and the Arch-deacon said it was a very good one, and ought to be adopted everywhere.”