“But his spirits are so odd!-—so merry and then so grave.”

“That is only during these last few days, and I fancy there must be some hitch—-perhaps about Dolores’ father, and we are all in such haste.”

Emilia did not pursue the subject.  She had never indulged in the folly of expecting any signs of actual love from her cousin.  She had always known that the family regarded any closer bond as impossible; but she had been always used to be his chief confidante, and she missed his attention, but she would not own this even to herself, go she talked of her hospital schemes with much zest, and how she should spend her outings at a favourite sisterhood.

“For,” said she, “I am tired of luxury.”

It had been a delightful walk to Anna, with her companion sister, discussing Adrian, or Emily’s plans, or Sophy’s prospects.  They had come home the sooner, for Emily had to pack, as she was to spend a little while with her mother at Vale Leston.  Where was Franceska?  They were somewhat dismayed not to find her, but it was one of the nights when everybody loses everybody, and no doubt she was with Uncle Lance, or with Sophy, or Gerald.

No such thing.  Here was Uncle Lance with his two boys in varying kinds of delight, Adrian pronouncing that “it was very jolly, the most ripping sight he ever saw,” then eating voraciously, with his eyes half shut, and tumbling off to bed “like a veritable Dutchman,” said Lance, who had his own son in a very different mood, with glowing cheeks, sparkling eyes, appetite gone for very excitement, as he sprang about and waved his hands to describe the beautiful course of the rockets, and the fall of the stars from the Roman candles.

“Oh, such as I never-—never saw!  How shall I get Pearl and Audrey to get even a notion of it?  Grandpapa will guess in a moment!  Oh, and the sea, all shine with a path of—-of glory!  Oh, daddy, there are things more beautiful than anybody could ever dream of!”

“Go and dream then, my sprite.  Try to be as still as you can, even if you do go on feeling the yacht, and seeing the sparks when you shut your eyes.  For you see my head is bad, and I do want a chance of sleep.”

“Poor daddy!  I’ll try, even if the music goes on in my head.  Good-night.”

“That will keep him quieter than anything,” said Lance; “but I would not give much for the chance of his not seeing the dawn.”

“Or you either, I fear,” said Geraldine.  “Have you slept since the discovery?”

“I shall make my sleep up at home, now I have had the whole out.  Who comes now?”

It was Sophy, with her look of

“Gentle wishes long subdued,
Subdued and cherished long.”