well. She had the newest and most charming
gowns and bonnets, mantles and hats. She found herself very well
received by society, and quite a favorite with Lady Mary Vincent, who
was a very popular person. So much occupied was the pretty little woman
that May was nearly over before she could find time to accept her
sister-in-law's repeated invitation to Cliff Cottage.

"I am going down to Sandbourne on Friday," she said to De Burgh one
evening as she was waiting for her carriage after a musical party at
Lady Mary Vincent's.

"Indeed! I thought you were going last Monday."

"Oh, I could not go on Monday. But if I don't go on Friday I do not
think I shall manage my visit at all. Tell me, what does Katherine find
to keep her down there? Is it Bertie Payne?"

"How can I tell? She seems contented enough. For that matter, she might
find my society equally attractive. Payne does not go down as often as I
do."

"No?--but then Katherine has a leaning to sanctity, and you are no
saint."

"True. By-the-way, talking of saints, there is a report that old
Errington's affairs were not left in as flourishing a condition as was
expected."

"Oh, nonsense! It is some mere ill-natured gossip."

"I hope so. I think I will come down on Saturday and escort you back to
town."

"Pray do; it will enliven us a little." A shout of "Mrs. Ormonde's
carriage!" cut short the conversation, and Mrs. Ormonde did not see De
Burgh again until they met at Cliff Cottage.

Mrs. Ormonde's visit, long anticipated, did not prove an unmixed
pleasure. She objected to what she considered the terribly long drive of
some five miles from the railway station to Katherine's secluded
residence; she turned up her pretty little nose at the smallness of the
cottage and its general homeliness; she evinced an unfriendly spirit
toward Miss Payne, who was perfectly unmoved thereby; and when the boys,
well washed and spruced up, approached her, not too eagerly, she
scarcely noticed them. This, of course, reacted on the little fellows,
who showed a decided inclination to avoid her.

She was tired after a warm journey and previous late hours, and
dreadfully afraid that sea air and sun together would have a ruinous
effect on her complexion. When, however, she had had tea and made a
fresh toilette, she took a less gloomy view of life at Sandbourne, and
having recovered her temper, she remembered it would be wiser not to
chafe her sister-in-law.

"To be sure," though