ana will plague
hers, in self-defence, with so many to keep her in order."

"They all spoil her."

"Ah, this is the golden age. See what it will be when they think
themselves responsible for her! Dear Lady Temple, how could you send him
home so old and so grave?"

"I am afraid we sent him home very ill. I never expected to see him so
perfectly recovered. I could hardly believe my eyes when Colonel Keith
brought him to the carriage not in the least lame."

"Yes; and it was half against his will. He would have been almost glad
to be a lay curate to Uncle George, only he knew if he was fit
for service my father would have been vexed at his giving up his
profession."

"Then it was not his choice!" said Rachel.

"Oh, he was born a soldier, like all the rest of us, couldn't help it.
The --th is our home, and if he would only take my hint and marry, I
could be with him there, now! Lady Temple, do pray send for all the
eligible officers--I don't know any of them now, except the two majors,
and Alick suspects my designs, I believe, for he won't tell me anything
about them."

"My dear!" said Fanny, bewildered, "how you talk; you know we are living
a very quiet life here."

"Oh, yes, so Alick has told me," she said, with a pretty compunction in
her tone; "you must be patient with me," and she kissed Fanny's fingers
again and spoke in a gentler way. "I am used to be a great chatter-box,
and nobody protested but Alick."

"I wish you would tell me about his return, my dear; he seemed so unfit
to travel when your poor father came to the hills and took him away by
dak. It seemed so impossible he could bear the journey; he could not
stand or help himself at all, and had constant returns of fever; but
they said the long sea voyage was the only chance, and that in India
he could not get vigour enough to begin to recover. I was very unhappy
about him," said Fanny, innocently, whilst Rachel felt very vigilant,
wondering if Fanny were the cause of the change his sister spoke of.

"Yes, the voyage did him good, but the tidings of papa's death came two
months before him, and Uncle George's eyes were in such a state that he
had to be kept in the dark, so that no one could go and meet the poor
dear boy at Southampton but Mr. Lifford, and the shock of the news he
heard brought the fever back, and it went on intermitting for weeks and
weeks. We had him at Littleworthy at first, thinking he could be better
nursed and more cheerful ther