there in the Coppinger's Court sun! The second rate luminary dedicated
to Cluhir was no more than a candle to it! Mr. Coppinger's Ant was
enquired for (this, it should, perhaps, be explained, referred to
Frederica, and had no entomological application) suitable regrets at
her absence from home were expressed, with a delicate implication that
with such a host, and in such weather, the loss was the Ant's, and was
practically negligible, so far as the ladies of Cluhir were concerned.
And who were these, coming up the path from Mr. Coppinger's lovely
river? Ah, yes, the youngest Miss Talbot-Lowry, of course, and which
brother was it? Oh, the youngest one? Mrs. Cassidy had thought the
youngest of Lady Isabel's family was a twins--or _were_ a twins?
Which ought she to say?

"Well, this is half of it, anyhow!" says young Mr. Coppinger,
facetiously, with which Mrs. Cassidy, like the Miss Flamboroughs,
thought she would have died with laughing.

With the arrival of the youngest Miss Talbot-Lowry, and half the
twins, a slight change fell upon Mr. Coppinger's voluble guests. A
stiffening faint, almost imperceptible, yet electric, enforced the
circle round Larry. Even Mrs. Whelply's confluent simper, that
suggested an incessant dripping from the tap of loving kindness,
failed a little. A young Mr. Coppinger was a simple affair, but a Miss
Talbot-Lowry, however young, might want watching.

The youngest Miss Talbot-Lowry was, happily for herself, quite unaware
of the estimation in which she was held. She had, like Larry, that
quality of selflessness that is so rare and so infinitely engaging;
what was she (she would have thought) that respect should be paid to
her? It was a tenet of her eccentric creed that age was not only