She cut right and left:  both looked annoyed, and retreated from the table.  Fred thinking how Alex must look down on fingers which possessed any tenderness; Alex provoked at once and pained.  Queen Bee’s black eyes perceived their power, and gave a flash of laughing triumph.

But Beatrice was not quite in her usual high spirits, for she was very sorry to leave her mother; and when they went up stairs for the night, she stood long over the fire talking to her, and listening to certain parting cautions.

“How I wish you could have come, mamma!  I am so sure that grandmamma in her kindness will tease Aunt Mary to death.  You are the only person who can guard her without affronting grandmamma.  Now I—­”

“Had better let it alone,” rejoined Mrs. Geoffrey Langford.  “You will do more harm than by letting things take their course.  Remember, too, that Aunt Mary was at home there long before you or I knew the place.”

“Oh, if that tiresome Aunt Amelia would but have had some consideration!  To go out of town and leave Aunt Susan on our hands just when we always go home!”

“We have lamented that often enough,” said her mother smiling.  “It is unlucky, but it cannot be too often repeated, that wills and wishes must sometimes bend.”

“You say that for me, mamma,” said Beatrice.  “You think grandmamma and I have too much will for each other.”

“If you are conscious of that, Bee, I hope that you will bend that wilful will of yours.”

“I hope I shall,” said Beatrice, “but....  Well, I must go to bed.  Good night, mamma.”

And Mrs. Geoffrey Langford looked after her daughter anxiously, but she well knew that Beatrice knew her besetting fault, and she trusted to the many fervent resolutions she had made against it.

The next morning the party bade adieu to Mrs. Geoffrey Langford, and set out on their journey to Knight Sutton.  They filled a whole railroad carriage, and were a very cheerful party.  Alexander and Beatrice sat opposite to each other, talking over Knight Sutton delights with animation, Beatrice ever and anon turning to her other cousins with explanations, or referring to her papa, who was reading the newspaper and talking with Mrs. Frederick Langford.

The day was not long enough for all the talk of the cousins, and the early winter twilight came on before their conversation was exhausted, or they had reached the Allonfield station.

“Here we are!” exclaimed Beatrice, as the train stopped, and at the same moment a loud voice called out, “All right! where are you, Alex?” upon which Alexander tumbled across Henrietta to feel for the handle of the carriage-door, replying, “Here, old fellow, let us out.  Have you brought Dumpling?” And Uncle Geoffrey and Beatrice exclaimed, “How d’ye do, Carey?”