she had done since that unlucky
afternoon at the Pool, and that Malcolm looked unusually happy.

But his content was of short duration. The next morning, as they were
waiting for the waggonette to take them to the station, Elizabeth
wandered into the deserted garden, and Malcolm, who followed her, found
her standing under a Guelder rose-tree, picking some of the snowy
blossoms.

She greeted him with a smile. "This reminds me of Cedric's nursery
days," she observed. "He used to love to pelt me with these soft white
balls when he was a mite of a thing in a white frock and blue ribbons.
Powder-puffins," he used to call them. "What a pretty little fellow he
was, to be sure! Well, Mr. Herrick," as Malcolm made no reply, "so our
little jaunt is at an end. It has really been very pleasant, don't you
think so?"

"I have enjoyed it," returned Malcolm. He spoke with marked emphasis.

"Oh, so have we all," she replied lightly. "It is so delightful to see
those two boys so ridiculously happy;" for both Cedric and Harry
Strickland had behaved during breakfast time like a couple of crazy
schoolboys.

"You have helped to make them so," observed Malcolm meaningly.

"Oh no," in a careless tone; "Dinah is taking the lion's share. If I
had had my way, I would have restored this beautiful old place--but two
lawyers are enough to crush any woman."

"I am only thankful that we were able to check such sinful
extravagance," he returned calmly; "I believe generosity can degenerate
into positive vice." But Elizabeth refused to listen to this.

"If it had been Cedric's house, I would have done it up from garret to
basement," she said wilfully. "Anyhow, I mean to take the garden in
hand. When you come down to the Wood House next, you shall hear all my
plans, and of course we shall have one of our old fights over them."

Now what was there in this speech to cause such a curious revulsion in
Malcolm's mind? Elizabeth was speaking with the utmost good-humour, and
at any other moment he would have thought her imperiousness
charming--so what possessed him to draw himself up and say rather
stiffly that he feared that it would be some time before they saw him
at Staplegrove. "You know, I am going abroad this summer with my mother
and Anna Sheldon," he continued gravely; "we are going to the Engadine
and the Italian Lakes."

"But that is not until August," returned Elizabeth, rather taken aback
by Malcolm's sudden gravity. She had been so ple