"Well, I suppose we shall hear about it to-night. You are going to
meet Frank in Brighton, aren't you?"

"Yes; he is coming to lunch with me."

"Don't keep him all day; send him on here, we might have a game of
tennis."

Willy did not answer; and he thought as he went upstairs, what a
trouble young girls were in a house. "They think of nothing but
pleasure, nothing but pleasure."

One, two, or three more delays, and he was ready, and with his brown
paper parcel tucked under his arm he set forth. Upon the young blue of
the sky, the fresh green of the buds melted. There were a few elms,
but hardly enough to constitute an avenue. The house looked as if it
had been repeatedly altered. It ran into unexpected corners and
angles; but it was far enough from the road to justify a gate lodge.
The swards were interspersed with shrubs in the most modern fashion,
and the sumptuous glass-houses could be seen gleaming in the sun. It
was a hot day, and the brick wall was dappled with hanging foliage,
and further out, opposite the windows of the "Stag and Hounds," where
Steyning's ales could be obtained, the over-reaching sprays of a great
chestnut tree fell in delicate tracery on the white dust. The road led
under the railway embankment, and looking through the arched opening,
one could see the dirty town, straggling along the canal or harbour,
which runs parallel with the sea. A black stain was the hull of a
great steamer lying on her side in the mud, but the tapering masts of
yachts were beautiful on the sky, and at the end of a row of