foretold stormy weather. A note from Mrs. Bellairs had prepared Lucia,
and she was standing on the verandah, dangling her hat in her hand, when
Mr. and Mrs. Bellairs drove up. She only stopped to give her mother a
last hasty kiss, and then ran out to meet them.

The others had gone on, and were dawdling along the road, when Bob, at
his usual sober trot, turned out of the lane--Doctor Morton driving with
Bella, Mr. Percy on horseback. The party moved on leisurely, too hot to
think of a quicker movement, and, as was natural, Mr. Percy drew his
horse to the side of the phaeton where Lucia sat. A drive of three miles
brought them to the farm, where they left the horses in the care of a
servant, and walked across a wide, unenclosed space of green to the
house. It was a long, ugly building, with innumerable windows. The
walls were whitewashed, and glared out painfully in the sunshine; the
roof, window-frames, and doors painted a dull red; but the situation,
similar to that of Mrs. Costello's Cottage, was lovely, and a group of
fine trees standing just where the green bank began to slope down
abruptly to the river, gave a delicious shade to that side of the
building and to some seats placed under them. Mr. Latour, in letting the
house, had retained one room for his daughters, who were fond of the
place, and they still kept possession of it. Here they were to dine; for
the rest of the day, out of doors was much pleasanter than in.

A boat and fishing-tackle were at hand, but it was too hot to fish;
after wandering about a little, they all sat down under the trees. Mrs.
Bellairs, Bella, and Lucia had some pretence of work in their hands; the
three gentlemen lounged on the grass near them. The farmer's children,
at play at the end of the house, occasionally darted out to peep at
them, and flew back again the moment they were perceived. Everything
else was still, even the leaves overhead did not move, and the silence