sounded so nice in Augusta's letter, and she
was so kind, and somehow it jars that there should have been that sort of
talk.'

Cilly was checked. In her utter want of thought it had not occurred to
her that Augusta Fulmort could be other than a laughing-stock, or that
any bright anticipations could have been spent by any reasonable person
on her marriage. Perhaps the companionship of Rashe, and the satirical
outspoken tone of her associates, had somewhat blunted her perception of
what might be offensive to the sensitive delicacy of a young sister; but
she instantly perceived her mistake, and the carnation deepened in her
cheek, at having distressed Phoebe, and . . . Not that she had deigned
any notice of Robert after the first cold shake of the hand, and he sat
rowing with vigorous strokes, and a countenance of set gravity, more as
if he were a boatman than one of the party; Lucilla could not even meet
his eye when she peeped under her eyelashes to recover defiance by the
sight of his displeasure.

It was a relief to all when Honora exclaimed, 'Wrapworth! how pretty it
looks.'

It was, indeed, pretty, seen through the archway of the handsome stone
bridge. The church tower and picturesque village were set off by the
frame that closed them in; and though they lost somewhat of the
enchantment when the boat shot from under the arch, they were still a
fair and goodly English scene.

Lucilla steered towards the steps leading to a smooth shaven lawn, shaded
by a weeping willow, well known to Honor.

'Here we land you and your bag, Robert,' said Owen, as he put in.
'Cilly, have a little sense, do.'

But Lucilla, to the alarm of all, was already on her feet, skipped like a
chamois to the steps, and flew dancing up the sward. Ere Owen and Robert
had helped the other two ladies to land in a more rational manner, she
was shaking her mischievous head at a window, and thrusting in her
sceptral reed-mace.

'Neighbour, oh, neighbour, I'm come to torment you! Yes, here we are in
full force, ladies and all, and you must come out and behave pretty.
Never mind your slippers; you ought to be proud of the only thing I ever
worked. Come out, I say; here's your guest, and you must be civil to
him.'

'I am very glad to see Mr. Fulmort,' said Mr. Prendergast, his only
answer in words to all this, though while it was going on, as if she were
pulling him by wires, as she imperiously waved her bulrush, he had stuck
his pen into th