and, nothing could have been more naturally
graceful than Rosamund's demeanour; whether pouring out tea, or
exhibiting her water-colours, or leading the talk to subjects of common
interest, she was charming in her own way, a way which borrowed nothing
from the every-day graces of the drawing-room. Her voice, always
subdued, had a range of melodious expression which caressed the ear, no
matter how trifling the words she uttered, and at moments its slightly
tremulous murmur on rich notes suggested depths of sentiment lying
beneath this familiar calm. To her aunt she spoke with a touch of
playful affection; when her eyes turned to Warburton, their look almost
suggested the frankness of simple friendship, and her tone was that of
the largest confidence.

Never had Will felt himself so lulled to oblivion of things external;
he forgot the progress of time, and only when Mrs. Pomfret spoke of the
train she had to catch, made an effort to break the lazy spell and take
his leave.

On the morrow, and on the day after that, he shirked business during
the afternoon, excusing himself with the plea that the heat of the shop
was insufferable. He knew that neglect of work was growing upon him,
and again he observed that Allchin seemed rather pleased than vexed by
these needless absences. The third day saw him behind the counter until
five o'clock, when he was summoned as usual to the back parlour to tea.
Laying before him a plate of watercress and slices of brown bread and
butter, Mrs. Allchin, a discreetly conversational young woman, remarked
on the continued beauty of the weather, and added a hope that Mr.
Jollyman would not feel obliged to remain in the shop this evening.

"No, no, it's your husband's turn," Will replied good-naturedly. "He
wants a holiday more than I do."

"Allchin want a 'oliday, sir!" exclaimed the woman. "Why he never knows
what to do with himself when he's away from business. He enjoys
business, does Allchin. Don't you think of him, sir. I never knew a man
so altered since he's been kept to regular work all the year round. I
used to dread the Sundays, and still more the Bank holidays when we
were here first; you never knew who he'd get quarrelling with as soon
as he'd nothing to do But now, sir, why I don't believe you'll find a
less quarrelsome man anywhere, and he was saying for a joke only
yesterday, that he didn't think he could knock down even a coster, he's
so lost the habit."

Will yielded and stol