once more approaching their comfortable quarters in Karricabad.




CHAPTER VI.


Smiling Spring, with her ever-changing episode of sunshine and tears,
had twice come and gone. The gorgeous fields of golden grain had for a
second time bent their heads beneath the harvest side, and the autumnal
tints of every hue and shade had again fallen on the rich foliage of the
magnificent old woods of Devon, while the whirr of the pheasant in the
preserves, and the popping at the partridges among the turnips,
indicated that the shooting season had once more commenced over the
broad lands around Vellenaux.

Things wore much the same aspect as they had done on Arthur's return
from College and prior to his departure for the sunny plains of
Hindostan some eighteen months since. Sir Jasper was apparently hale and
hearty. Edith had finished her education, on which her uncle had spared
no expense, for masters and professors had been procured from London to
superintend her studies. She was perfectly happy, occasionally receiving
letters from Arthur, which always afforded her much pleasure to peruse
and think over, and frequently would she detect herself gazing upon his
photograph in the pretty little locket he had sent her from Oxford by
Tom Barton, and which, since his departure, she constantly wore.

Ralph Coleman's visits had become more frequent of late; this at first
did not attract Edith's notice. She had never been prepossessed in his