“Flattery, Bessie,” he said, not ill pleased.  “Yes, she is much better, and more like herself; but I dread all this being overthrown.  If she herself wishes to go, it may be a good beginning, but she must not be persuaded.”

“Then I must not even tell her that she won’t be required to croquet, and that I’ll guard her from all civil speeches.”

“No, for indeed, Bessie, on your own account and Lord Keith’s, you should hardly spend a long afternoon from home.”

“Here’s the war in the enemy’s quarters!  As to fatigue, dawdling about Mrs. Huntsford’s garden, is much the same as dawdling about my own, and makes me far more entertaining.”

“I cannot help thinking, Bessie, that Lord Keith is more ill than you suppose.  I am sure he is in constant pain.”

“So I fear,” said Bessie, gravely; “but what can be done?  He will see no one but his old surgeon in Edinburgh.”

“Then take him there.”

“Take him?  You must know what it is to be in the hands of a clever woman before you make such a proposal.”

“You are a cleverer woman than my wife in bringing about what you really wish.”

“Just consider, Alick, our own house is uninhabitable, and this one on our hands—­my aunt coming to me in a month’s time.  You don’t ask me to do what is reasonable.”

“I cannot tell, Bessie.  You can be the only judge of what is regard of the right kind for your husband’s health or for yourself; and see, there is Mrs. Huntsford actually arrived, and talking to my uncle.”

“One moment, Alick:  I am not going to insult myself so far as to suppose that poor Charlie Carleton’s being at home has anything to do with your desire to deport me, but I want you to know that he did not come home till after we were settled here.”

“I do not wish to enter into details, Bessie,” and he crossed the lawn towards the window where Mr. Clare and Rachel had just received Mrs. Huntsford, a goodnatured joyous-looking lady, a favourite with every one.  Her invitation was dexterously given to meet a few friends at luncheon, and in the garden, where the guests would be free to come and go; there might perhaps be a little dancing later, she had secured some good music which would, she knew, attract Mr. Clare, and she hoped he would bring Captain and Mrs. Keith.  She knew Mrs. Keith had not been well, but she promised her a quiet room to rest in, and she wanted to show her a view of the Devon coast done by a notable artist in water-colours.  Rachel readily accepted—­in fact, this quiet month had been so full of restoration that she had almost forgotten her morbid shrinking from visitors; and Bessie infused into her praise and congratulations a hint that a refusal would have been much against Alick’s reputation, so that she resolved to keep up to the mark, even though he took care that she should know that she might yet retract.

“You did not wish me to refuse, Alick,” said she, struck by his grave countenance, when she found him lying on the slope of the lawn shortly after, in deep thought.