the following year, old Mrs. Tarrant, forsaking Teignmouth,
came to live under her son-in-law's roof; the winter had tried her
health, and henceforth she seldom left home.

To-day, as on former occasions (only two or three in all), Nancy was
reluctant to approach the big house; its imposing front made her feel
that she came only on sufferance; probably even Mrs. Baker did not
regard her as having a right to call here on terms of equality. Yet the
place touched her curiosity and her imagination; she liked to study
the luxurious appointments within, and to walk about the neglected but
pleasant garden, quiet and secluded as if whole counties divided it from
Camberwell. In the hall she and Jessica were at once welcomed by the
children, who first informed them that tea would be served out of doors,
and next made known that 'cousin Lionel' was here, in Mrs. Tarrant's
drawing-room. The second piece of news vexed Nancy; she resolved never
to come again, unless on formal invitation.

Mrs. Baker, an agreeable woman, received them as if she were the
mistress of the house. With Jessica she chatted about matters
examinational, which she seemed thoroughly to understand; with Miss Lord
she talked of wider subjects, in a tone not unpleasing to Nancy, seeing
that it presumed, on her part, some knowledge of the polite world.
It was observable that Mr. Vawdrey's daughters had benefited by the
superintendence of this lady; they no longer gossiped loudly about
murders and scandals, but demeaned themselves more as became their
years.

On the arrival of other ladies to call upon Mrs. Baker, the children
drew their friends away into the garden, where tea now awaited them.
Amid the trees and flowers time passed not unpleasantly, until,
on happening to turn her head, Nancy perceived at a distance the
approaching figure of Mr. Lionel Tarrant. He sauntered over the grass
with easy, indolent step; his straw hat and light lounge costume
(excellent tailoring) suited the season and the place. Jessica, who
regarded the young man with something of awe, stood up to shake hands,
but Miss. Lord kept her place in the garden chair.

'Did you see the procession?' Tarrant inquired. 'Ah, then I can give you
very important news--thrilling news. I know the colour of the Queen's
bonnet, and of her parasol.'

'Please don't keep us in suspense,' said Nancy.

'They were of pale primrose. Touching, don't you think?'

He had seated himself crosswise on a camp-