were being carried from the barouche to the house.

'How dry and burnt-up everything looks!' she said.

'Have you no better greeting than that for Thornleigh, my dear
Augusta?' Mr. Darrell asked in rather a wounded tone. 'I thought you
would be pleased to see the old place again.'

'Thornleigh Manor is not a passion of mine,' she answered. 'I hope
you will take a house in town at the beginning of next year.'

She passed on into the hall, after having honoured me with the
coldest possible shake-hands. We saw no more of her until nearly
dinner-time, when she came down to the drawing-room, dressed in
white, and looking deliciously pale and cool in the sultry weather.
Milly had spent the afternoon in going round the gardens and home-
farm with her father, and had thoroughly enjoyed the delight of a
couple of hours alone with him. She gave him up now to Mrs. Darrell,
who devoted all her attention to him for the rest of the evening;
while Julian Stormont, Milly, and I loitered about the garden, and
played a desultory game of croquet.

It was not until the next morning that Mr. Egerton's name was
mentioned, although it had been in my thoughts, and I cannot doubt
in Milly's, ever since Mr. Darrell's arrival. We were in the
drawing-room after breakfast, not quite decided what to do with the
day, when Mr. Darrell came into the room dressed for a ride with his
wife. He went over to the window by which Milly was standing.

'You have quite given up riding, Ellis tells me, my dear,' he said.