abusing Society?
Society has behaved uncommonly well, in my opinion. Where's Frank?"

"Lurking," said Mr. Clare. "It is one of the intolerable peculiarities
of louts that they always lurk. I haven't seen _my_ lout this morning.
It you meet with him anywhere, give him a kick, and say I want him."

Mr. Clare's opinion of his son's habits might have been expressed
more politely as to form; but, as to substance, it happened, on that
particular morning, to be perfectly correct. After leaving Magdalen,
Frank had waited in the shrubbery, at a safe distance, on the chance
that she might detach herself from her sister's company, and join him
again. Mr. Vanstone's appearance immediately on Norah's departure,
instead of encouraging him to show himself, had determined him on
returning to the cottage. He walked back discontentedly; and so
fell into his father's clutches, totally unprepared for the pending
announcement, in that formidable quarter, of his departure for London.

In the meantime, Mr. Vanstone had communicated his news--in the first
place, to Magdalen, and afterward, on getting back to the house, to
his wife and Miss Garth. He was too unobservant a man to notice that
Magdalen looked unaccountably startled, and Miss Garth unaccountably
relieved, by his announcement of Frank's good fortune. He talked on
about it, quite unsuspiciously, until the luncheon-bell rang--and then,
for the first time, he noticed Norah's absence. She sent a message
downstairs, after they had assembled at the table, to say that a
headache was keeping her in her own room. When Miss Garth went up
shortly afterward to communicate the news about Frank, Norah appeared,
strangely enough, to feel very little relieved by hearing it. Mr.
Francis Clare had gone away on a former occasion (she remarked), and had
come back. He might come back again, and sooner than they any of them
thought for. She said no more on the subject than this: she made no
reference to what had taken place in the shrubbery. Her unconquerable
reserve seemed to have strengthened its hold on her since the outburst
of the morning. She met Magdalen, later in the day, as if nothing had
happened: no formal reconciliation took place between them. It was one
of Norah's peculiarities to shrink from all reconciliations that were
openly ratified, and to take her shy refuge in reconciliations that were
silently implied. Magdalen saw plainly, in her look and manner, that she
had made her first a