staring as if you thought I had lost my reason."

Lena Strudwarden did not weep, but her attempt at laughing was an
unmistakable failure.




THEGUESTS


"The landscape seen from our windows is certainly charming," said
Annabel; "those cherry orchards and green meadows, and the river winding
along the valley, and the church tower peeping out among the elms, they
all make a most effective picture. There's something dreadfully sleepy
and languorous about it, though; stagnation seems to be the dominant
note. Nothing ever happens here; seedtime and harvest, an occasional
outbreak of measles or a mildly destructive thunderstorm, and a little
election excitement about once in five years, that is all that we have to
modify the monotony of our existence. Rather dreadful, isn't it?"

"On the contrary," said Matilda, "I find it soothing and restful; but
then, you see, I've lived in countries where things do happen, ever so
many at a time, when you're not ready for them happening all at once."

"That, of course, makes a difference," said Annabel.

"I have never forgotten," said Matilda, "the occasion when the Bishop of
Bequar paid us an unexpected visit; he was on his way to lay the
foundation-stone of a mission-house or something of the sort."