polished specimen of market-ware, the Lady Juliana Jaye, for a first
introduction to him, thinking he had arrived at an age to estimate and
pine for her black eyes and pretty pert mouth. The Lady Juliana had to
pair off with a dapper Papworth, and her mama was subjected to the
gallantries of Sir Miles, who talked land and steam-engines to her till
she was sick, and had to be impertinent in self-defence. Lady Blandish,
the delightful widow, sat apart with Adrian, and enjoyed his sarcasms on
the company. By ten at night the poor show ended, and the rooms were
dark, dark as the prognostics multitudinously hinted by the disappointed
and chilled guests concerning the probable future of the hope of Raynham.
Little Clare kissed her mama, curtsied to the lingering curate, and went
to bed like a very good girl. Immediately the maid had departed, little
Clare deliberately exchanged night, attire for that of day. She was
noted as an obedient child. Her light was allowed to burn in her room
for half-an-hour, to counteract her fears of the dark. She took the
light, and stole on tiptoe to Richard's room. No Richard was there. She
peeped in further and further. A trifling agitation of the curtains shot
her back through the door and along the passage to her own bedchamber
with extreme expedition. She was not much alarmed, but feeling guilty
she was on her guard. In a short time she was prowling about the
passages again. Richard had slighted and offended the little lady, and
was to be asked whether he did not repent such conduct toward his cousin;
not to be asked whether he had forgotten to receive his birthday kiss
from her; for, if he did not choose to remember that, Miss Clare would
never remind him of it, and to-night should be his last chance of a
reconciliation. Thus she meditated, sitting on a stair, and presently
heard Richard's voice below in the hall, shouting for supper.

"Master Richard has returned," old Benson the butler tolled out
intelligence to Sir Austin.