Mr. Bramshaw had brought her to the door, and no doubt she and he had had a quiet, restful time of patient planning; but the not finding Francie soon filled her with great alarm and self-reproach for having let herself be drawn away from the party, when all had stood together on Miss Mohun’s lawn.  She wanted to start off at once in search of her sister, and was hardly pacified by finding that Gerald was still to come.  Then, however, Gerald did come, and alone.  He said he had just seen the Clipstone party off.  No, he had not seen Francie there; but he added, rather as if recovering from a bewilderment, as Sophy was asking him to come out with her again, “Oh, never fear.  Lord Ivinghoe was there somewhere!”

“I thought he was gone.”

“No, he said the yacht got in too late for the train.  Never mind, Sophy, depend upon it she is all right.”

None of the ladies present felt equally pleased, but in a minute or two more in came a creature, bright, lovely, and flushed, with two starry eyes, gleaming like the blue lights on the ships.

“Oh, Cousin Marilda, have I kept you waiting?  I am so sorry!”

“Where have you been?”

“Only on the cliff walk.  Lord Ivinghoe took me to see the place where his father had the accident, and we watched the fireworks from there.  Oh, it was so nice, and still more beautiful when the strange lights were out and the people gone, and only the lovely quiet moon shining on the sea, and a path of light from Venus.”

“I should think so,” muttered Gerald, and Marilda began—-

“Pretty well, miss.”

“I am very sorry to bo so late,” began Francie, and Geraldine caught an opportunity while shawling Marilda to say—-

“Dear, good Marilda, I implore you to say nothing to put it into her head or Alda’s.  I don’t think any harm is done yet, but it can’t be anything.  It can’t come to good, and it would only be unhappiness to them all.”

“Oh, ah! well, I’ll try.  But what a chance it would be, and how happy it would make poor Alda!”

“It can’t be.  The boy’s mother would never let him look at her!  Don’t, don’t, don’t!”

“Well, I’ll try not.”  She kissed her fondly.

Gerald’s walk had been with Dolores of course, a quiet, grave, earnest talk and walk, making them feel how much they belonged to one another, and building schemes in which they were to learn the nature of the poor and hard-worked, by veritably belonging to them, and being thus able to be of real benefit.  In truth, neither of them, in their brave youthfulness, really regretted Vale Leston, and the responsibilities; and, as Gerald declared, he would give it up tomorrow gladly if he could save his name and his father’s from shame, but, alas! the things went together.

Dolores wished to write fully to her father, and that Gerald should do the same, but she did not wish to have the matter discussed in the family at once, before his answer came, and Gerald had agreed to silence, as indeed they would not call themselves engaged till that time.  Indeed, Dolores said there was so much excitement about Captain Armytage that no one was thinking of her.