ing up, heard all this intimated. At twelve years old, though she
had detested Rosalie's marriage, she had rather liked to hear people
talk of the picturesqueness of places like Stornham Court, and of the
life led by women of rank in their houses in town and country. Such
talk nearly always involved the description of things and people, whose
colour and tone had only reached her through the medium of books, most
frequently fiction.

She was, however, of an unusually observing mind, even as a child, and
the time came when she realised that the national bird spread its wings
less proudly when the subject of international matches was touched upon,
and even at such times showed signs of restlessness. Now and then things
had not turned out as they appeared to promise; two or three seemingly
brilliant unions had resulted in disaster. She had not understood all
the details the newspapers cheerfully provided, but it was clear to
her that more than one previously envied young woman had had practical
reasons for discovering that she had made an astonishingly bad bargain.
This being the case, she used frequently to ponder over the case of
Rosy--Rosy! who had been swept away from them and swallowed up, as it
seemed, by that other and older world. She was in certain ways a silent
child, and no one but herself knew how little she had forgotten Rosy,
how often she pondered over her, how sometimes she had lain awake in the
night and puzzled out lines of argument concerning her and things which
might be true.

The one grief of poor Mrs. Vanderpoel's life had been the apparent
estrangement of her eldest child. After her first six months in England
Lady Anstruthers' letters had become fewer and farther between, and had
given so little information connected with herself that affectionate
curiosity became discouraged. Sir Nigel's brief and rare epistles
revealed so little desire for any relationship with his wife's family
that gradually Rosy's image seemed to fade into far distance and become
fainter with the passing of each month. It seemed almost an incredible
thing, when they allowed themselves to think of it, but no member of the
family had ever been to Stornham Court. Two or three efforts to arrange
a visit had been made, but on each occasion had failed through some
apparently accidental cause. Once Lady Anstruthers had been away, once
a letter had seemingly failed to reach her, once her children had had
scarlet fever and the orders o