she returned, with a nod and a smile.
"Oh, dear; how tiresome these last two hours have been. You have not
enjoyed yourself a bit. Bessie. I am so sorry!"

"Oh, never mind." returned Bessie wearily, and then they had both been
silent. Neither was in the mood to enjoy the delicious freshness of the
evening; that clear shining after the rain that is so indescribable, the
wet, gleaming hedges, the little sparkling pools, the vivid green of the
meadows; for Edna was feeling the reaction after her excitement; and
Bessie, tired out with conflicting feelings was thinking regretfully of
her unsatisfactory conversation with Captain Broughton.

"It serves me right, after all," she thought penitently. "Father always
says that we ought to take trouble to please even the most commonplace,
uninteresting person, not to let ourselves be bored by anyone, however
uncongenial they may be, and of course he is right. I was just fidgeting
about the weather, and how we were to get home, and so I did not try to
be entertaining." And here Bessie made a mental resolution to be more
charitable in her estimate of people.

She had no idea that Captain Broughton had said to himself as he left
her, "Nice little girl, no nonsense about her; not a bad sort, after the
women one sees; can talk to a man without looking for a compliment; like
her better than Miss Sefton."

Just as the drive was drawing to a close, Bessie roused up from her
unwonted depression. They had turned out of the narrow lane, and a wide
sweep of country lay before them, bathed in the soft tints of the
setting sun. A mass of golden and crimson clouds made the western
heavens glorious, the meadows were transfigured in the yellow radiance,
every hedgerow and bush seemed touched by an unearthly finger, a sense
of distance, of mystery, of tranquil rest seemed to pervade the world.

"Oh, Edna, how beautiful! If only one were an artist to try and paint
that."

"Yes; it is a fine evening," remarked Edna carelessly.

"Thank goodness, there is The Grange at last. Yes, there is Richard,
evidently on the lookout for us. So I suppose they have finished
dinner."

"Did you think we were lost?" she asked with a little air of defiance,
as her brother came forward and patted the ponies.

"No," he said gravely; "I told my mother the rain must have detained
you. It is a pity you went, Edna. Sinclair has been here two hours. He
came down in the same train with mother."

"Neville here!" And