gaining in dignity and expression by the loss of hair, and with a
look of weary, placid enjoyment as he listened to the talk of the
other two; Lance with bright, sweet animation and cheeriness, still
young-looking, though his hair too was scantier and his musical tones
subdued; and Geraldine, pensive in eye and lip, but often sparkling
up with flashes of her inborn playfulness, and, like Clement, resting
in the sunshine diffused by Lance. This last was the editor and
proprietor of the 'Pursuivant', an important local paper, and had
come up on journalistic business as well as for the fete. Gertrude
meantime had been choosing carpets and curtains.

"For," said Lance, with a smack of exultation, "we are actually going
back to our old quarters over the shop."

"Oh!" A responsive sound of satisfaction from Geraldine.

"Nothing amiss?" asked Clement.

"Far from it. We let Marshlands to great advantage, and there are
many reasons for the flitting. I ought to be at head-quarters, and
besides there are the Sundays. We are too many now for picnicking in
the class-room, or sponging on the rectory."

"And," said Gertrude, "I dare not put his small family in competition
with his organ."

"Besides," said Lance, "the 'Pursuivant' is more exacting, and the
printing Will Harewood's books has brought in more business—-"

"But how about space? We could squeeze, but can you?"