“I shall stay here for a week or two yet, perhaps.  You know how I hate Tredinnis.  On my way over, I called at the Parsonage and saw your mother.  She was writing that very day, she said, and promised to send my remembrances, which I hope duly reached you.  The Vicar was away at the church, of course.  There is great talk of the Bishop coming in February, when all will be ready.  George sends his love; I saw him for a few minutes at breakfast this morning, before he started for another day with the pheasants.”

     “Your friend,”
     “HONORIA.”

2.

     “CARWITHIEL, Nov. 19, 18—.”

“MY DEAR TAFFY,—­Still here, you see!  I am slipping this into a parcel containing a fire-screen which I have worked with my very own hands; and I trust you will be able to recognise the shield upon it and the Magdalen lilies.  I send it, first, as a birthday present; and I chose the shield—­well, I dare say that going in for a demy-ship is a matter-of-fact affair to you, who have grown so exceedingly matter-of-fact; but to me it seems a tremendous adventure; and so I chose a shield—­for I suppose the dons would frown if you wore a cockade in your college cap.  I return to Tredinnis to-morrow; so your news, whatever it is, must be addressed to me there.  But it is safe to be good news.”

     “Your friend,”
     “HONORIA.”

3.

     “TREDINNIS, Nov. 27, 18—.”

“MOST HONOURED SCHOLAR,—­Behold me, an hour ago, a great lady, seated in lonely grandeur at the head of my own ancestral table.  This is the first time I have used the dining-room; usually I take all my meals in the morning-room, at a small table beside the fire.  But to-night I had the great table spread and the plate spread out, and wore my best gown, and solemnly took my grandfather’s chair and glowered at the ghost of a small girl shivering at the far end of the long white cloth.  When I had enough of this (which was pretty soon) I ordered up some champagne and drank to the health of Theophilus John Raymond, Demy of Magdalen College, Oxford.  I graciously poured out a second glass for the small ghost at the other end of the table; and it gave her the courage to confess that she, too, in a timid way, had taken an interest in you for years, and hoped you were going to be a great man.  Having thus discovered a bond between us, we grew very friendly; and we talked a great deal about you afterwards in the drawing-room, where I lost her for a few minutes and found her hiding in the great mirror over the fire-place—­a habit of hers.”

“It is time for me to practise ceremony, for it seems that George and I are to be married some time in the spring.  For my part I think my lord would be content to wait longer; for so long as he is happy and sees others cheerful he is not one to hurry or worry.  But Sir Harry is the impatient one:  and has begun to talk of his decease.  He doesn’t