languid. Maurice had brown hair, now a little tossed and disordered (for
he had been busy all morning on board the boat), a pair of brown eyes of
singular beauty, clear and true, and a tolerable set of features, which,
like his manner, varied considerably, according to the humour he
happened to be in. Percy was a man of the world, understood and
respected "les convenances," and never shocked anybody. Maurice knew
nothing about the world, and having no more refined rule of conduct than
the simple one of right and wrong, which is, perhaps, too lofty for
every-day use, he occasionally blundered in his behaviour to people he
did not like. At present, indeed, for some reason, by no means clear to
himself, he returned the Englishman's glance in anything but a friendly
manner.

Bob, the grey pony, trotted down the wharf with his load. Half-a-dozen
idlers rushed forwards to help the two girls out of the carriage, and
into the boat. Bob marched off in charge of a groom; the paddles began
to turn, the flags waved, the band struck up, and the boat moved quickly
away down, the stream.

Mrs. Bellairs, relieved from her watch, had sunk into a chair placed on
deck, and sent her husband to bring the truants. Maurice remained beside
her, and when the rest of the group had a little separated, he bent down
and said to her,

"Dear Mrs. Bellairs, don't scold Lucia if the delay is her fault. She
had some objection to leaving her mother to-day, and even wanted me to
excuse her to you."

"She is a spoiled child," was the answer. "But, however, I will forgive
her this once for your sake."