So far as practical results were concerned, the sitting of the family council began and ended with the general opinion that Frank must go.  Mr. Vanstone’s faculties were so bewildered by the son’s sudden arrival, the father’s unexpected visit, and the news they both brought with them, that he petitioned for an adjournment before the necessary arrangements connected with his young friend’s departure were considered in detail.  “Suppose we all sleep upon it?” he said.  “Tomorrow our heads will feel a little steadier; and to-morrow will be time enough to decide all uncertainties.”  This suggestion was readily adopted; and all further proceedings stood adjourned until the next day.

That next day was destined to decide more uncertainties than Mr. Vanstone dreamed of.

Early in the morning, after making tea by herself as usual, Miss Garth took her parasol and strolled into the garden.  She had slept ill; and ten minutes in the open air before the family assembled at breakfast might help to compensate her, as she thought, for the loss of her night’s rest.

She wandered to the outermost boundary of the flower-garden, and then returned by another path, which led back, past the side of an ornamental summer-house commanding a view over the fields from a corner of the lawn.  A slight noise—­like, and yet not like, the chirruping of a bird—­caught her ear as she approached the summer-house.  She stepped round to the entrance; looked in; and discovered Magdalen and Frank seated close together.  To Miss Garth’s horror, Magdalen’s arm was unmistakably round Frank’s neck; and, worse still, the position of her face, at the moment of discovery, showed beyond all doubt that she had just been offering to the victim of Chinese commerce the first and foremost of all the consolations which a woman can bestow on a man.  In plainer words, she had just given Frank a kiss.

In the presence of such an emergency as now confronted her, Miss Gart h felt instinctively that all ordinary phrases of reproof would be phrases thrown away.

“I presume,” she remarked, addressing Magdalen with the merciless self-possession of a middle-aged lady, unprovided for the occasion with any kissing remembrances of her own—­“I presume (whatever excuses your effrontery may suggest) you will not deny that my duty compels me to mention what I have just seen to your father?”

“I will save you the trouble,” replied Magdalen, composedly.  “I will mention it to him myself.”

With those words, she looked round at Frank, standing trebly helpless in a corner of the summer-house.  “You shall hear what happens,” she said, with her bright smile.  “And so shall you,” she added for Miss Garth’s especial benefit, as she sauntered past the governess on her way back to the breakfast-table.  The eyes of Miss Garth followed her indignantly; and Frank slipped out on his side at that favorable opportunity.

Under these circumstances, there was but one course that any respectable woman could take—­she could only shudder.  Miss Garth registered her protest in that form, and returned to the house.