nstairs to-day,
and you will hardly have time to dress;" and she motioned to Endymion to
retire.

Mrs. Ferrars kept the dinner waiting a long time, and, when she entered
the room, it was evident that she was painfully excited. She had a cap
on, and had used some rouge.

"Endymion must take me in to dinner," she hurriedly exclaimed as she
entered, and then grasped her son's arm.

It seemed a happy and even a merry dinner, and yet there was something
about it forced and constrained. Mrs. Ferrars talked a great deal, and
Endymion told them a great many anecdotes of those men and things which
most interested them, and Myra seemed to be absorbed in his remarks and
narratives, and his mother would drink his health more than once, when
suddenly she went into hysterics, and all was anarchy. Mr. Ferrars
looked distressed and infinitely sad; and Myra, putting her arm round
her mother, and whispering words of calm or comfort, managed to lead her
out of the room, and neither of them returned.

"Poor creature!" said Mr. Ferrars, with a sigh. "Seeing you has been too
much for her."

The next morning Endymion and his sister paid a visit to the rectory,
and there they met Nigel, who was passing his Christmas at home. This
was a happy meeting. The rector had written an essay on squirrels, and
showed them a glass containing that sportive little animal in all its
frolic forms. Farmer Thornberry had ordered a path to be cleared on
the green from the hall to the rectory; and "that is all," said Mrs.
Penruddock, "we have to walk upon, except the high road. The snow has
drifted to such a degree that it is impossible to get to the Chase. I
went out the day before yesterday with Carlo as a guide. When I did not
clearly make out my way, I sent him forward, and sometimes I could only
see his black head emerging from the snow. So I had to retreat."

Mrs. Ferrars did not appear this day. Endymion visited her in her room.
He found her flighty and incoherent. She seemed to think that he had
returned permanently to Hurstley, and said she never had any good
opinion of the scheme of his leaving them. If it had been the Foreign
Office, as was promised, and his father had been in the Cabinet, which
was his right, it might have been all very well. But, if he were to
leave home, he ought to have gone into the Guards, and it was not too
late. And then they might live in a small house in town, and look after
him. There were small houses in Wilton Cresc