as before
him, and he loved his profession.

That first evening in Market Square Place passed on the whole more
cheerfully than might have been expected. Miss Mildmay was practically
kind--more self-denying than her guests realised, for out of
consideration for them, she had renounced attendance that evening at a
committee meeting of which she was the ruling spirit, and those who
knew her well would have seen that to sit for two or three hours 'with
her hands before her,' in her drawing-room, made her feel sadly like a
fish out of water.

But the four new-comers were too preoccupied to observe her
restlessness; the younger ones were tired too, and anxious for them to
feel as cheerful as possible the next day, their uncle left early,
advising Miss Mildmay to send them all off to bed.

'I am not leaving till twelve o'clock after all,' he said, 'so, if you
have no objection I'll call in about half-past ten, and take these three
young people a walk. I'd like to see something of Thetford: its looks so
pretty.'

It was something to look forward to--another glimpse of the dear kind
boyish face. And with the thought of the next morning's walk together,
in their mind, the girls went to bed, and got up in good time for their
aunt's early breakfast, trying to look and feel as cheerful as they
could.

Marmaduke was more than punctual. It was barely ten o'clock when he rang
at the door and came in briskly, saying it was such a lovely day he had
thought it a pity to lose any of it.

It could not be anything but a sad walk, though they all tried to
pretend it was not, and Uncle Marmy talked very fast and made all sorts
of jokes, which Jacinth and Frances saw through, though they made Eugene
laugh.

'Thetford's a very pretty place, really,' said Jacinth. 'There are
lovely walks on every side, I should think. Do you suppose we shall go
walks with the girls at our school, Uncle Marmy, or by ourselves with
Phebe?'

'By yourselves, I should think. You are only to be at school till one
o'clock,' he replied.

'Oh, that will be much nicer,' said both the girls; 'we shall explore
the neighbourhood. Oh what a pretty lane!' for they were just then
passing Robin Redbreast corner. 'Do let us go down it a little way,
uncle,' added Frances, 'I see what looks like a gate into a garden.'

And a moment or two later, the four stood, breathless with admiration,
in front of the great gates in the high ivy-covered wall I have
described.

T