quite willing to satisfy him. She had been there already, and
had seen their cottage. She could tell him all about their two parlours,
and the little garden running down to the beck. But Cyril's curiosity
was insatiable; he wanted to know presently how she would employ herself
and what books she would read.

'For you will have wet days,' he added--'saft days, I think they call
them--and then time will hang heavily on your hands unless you have
plenty of books.'

'Oh, Michael has seen to that,' she replied brightly.

Somehow, Michael's name was perpetually cropping up. 'My cousin and I
mean to do that,' or 'Michael means to help me with that,' until Cyril's
face grew slightly lugubrious.

True, he tried to console himself with the remembrance of Audrey's words
that she and Geraldine looked upon Michael as a sort of brother; still,
he never did quite approve of this sort of adopted relationship. It was
always a mistake, he thought; and in time people found it out for
themselves.

Of course he was Miss Ross's cousin--or, rather, her father's
cousin--but even that did not explain matters comfortably to his mind;
and when a man has a Victoria Cross, and is looked upon in the light of
a hero, it is a little difficult for other men not to envy him.

Cyril began to feel less happy. The walk was nearly at an end, too. Some
of the light and cheerfulness seemed to fade out of the landscape; a
chill breath permeated the summer air.

But Audrey went on talking in her lively, girlish way. She was quite
unconscious of the sombre tinge that had stolen over Cyril's thoughts.

'Yes, to-morrow we shall be more than a hundred miles away; and the next
day you will be _en route_ for Cornwall.'

'I suppose so.'

'You will have a very pleasant time, I hope.'

'Oh, I daresay it will be pleasant enough; the house will be full of
company--at least, Hackett says so. His people are very hospitable.'

'Are there any daughters?'

'Oh yes; there are three girls--the three Graces, as they were called
when they came up to Commemoration.'

'Indeed; were they so handsome?'

'Some of our men thought so,' with a fine air of indifference. 'I know
Baker was smitten with one of them; it is going to be a match, I
believe. That is Henrietta, the eldest.'

'I suppose she was the handsomest?'

'Oh dear no! Miss Laura is far better looking; and so is the youngest,
Miss Frances. In my opinion Miss Frances is far more taking than either
of her