"No, you look pale and tired. Ten to one you have increased your cold by getting very warm with walking in the sun in the first place, and then sitting on wet grass or standing under a tree, where there is always sure to be a draught. Enough to give half of the party rheumatic fevers." "Don't put such shocking things into my head." "Well, I hope nothing will come of it. How dumpy I feel this evening! Mr. Huntley is flirting with Hannah now. I suppose he'll make the tour of the room. I don't think so much of his manners, now I have seen Lewis Pennington. Huntley is a man of the world, but Lewis is a man of birth and breeding. Good heavens! what a laugh Harriet Brown has! Not much breeding to spare in that quarter, I think. People may come from London, and yet not abound in gentility. I wonder whereabouts that Bloomsbury is, they are always talking of. A good way from the west end, I should fancy." "Why, Matthew, what makes you so bitter to-night?" "Am I bitter? Well then, to please you, I'll try to be sweet. What a sweet turban Miss Holland has on!" "You ought to offer your services to her at the tea-table." out me. "No, no, there are men enough to do that, withI shall pretend not to see I am wanted. We are such a large party that there are not enough chairs, and if I were to leave my place, Mr. Huntley would whip it up before I could say Jack Robinson! He has been shifting from one foot to another these ten minutes." "I dare say he is tired with his walk." "His walk! what a walk! Not half so far as I have been to-day. All over to Hundleford on foot, and nobody at home when I got there. If that was not enough to—” "Ha, ha, ha!—" "What are you laughing at, Rosina ?" "I have found out what makes you so surly." "I surly?" said Matthew, colouring. "If I am surly, it is because I am tired and vexed with walking five miles in the sun, and five miles back again in the rain, and all for nothing. There! I have caught Miss Holland's eye now! She beckons to me. I must go! What a pity, when you and I were so pleasantly talking off our weariness to each other!" Matthew lost his place, as he had anticipated, and Rosina seemed marvellously resigned to the change in her companions. A noisy tea was succeeded by a more noisy game of forfeits, ostensibly for the sake of the young Goods, though it was carried on with equal spirit by many of the grown up members of the party. Farmer Holland loved to promote merriment, and Huntley and Rosina delighted him by the liveliness with which they kept up the game. Towards nine o'clock, Matthew Wellford found himself walking home between his sisters. "Well Rosina," said he, "I hope you and Mr. Huntley have been talking nonsense to each other's satisfaction." "Now, Matthew, don't be ill-humoured. People do not come out to make themselves disagreeable to their hosts and hostesses, do they?" 66 Why, no-only I think there was rather too much of it to-night." "Of what?" "Of noise, and flirting, and romping." "Romping! oh, Matthew!" "I don't know what else you could call Phœbe Holland's running off with Mr. Huntley's hat, and his running after her." Oh, there I agree with you. I thought you were alluding to me.” "And even you-" began Matthew. "And even then," said Rosina, appearing not to hear him," it was Phoebe Holland's fault, and poor Mr. Huntley ran after his hat very unwillingly." "It is my opinion," said Matthew, abruptly, "that grown people ought never to play at children's games. They are sure to go too far, or else look awkward, as Hannah did to-night, when it was her turn to forfeit. Their mirth can never be like the mirth of children. Ignorance of decorum and wilful forgetfulness of it are two very different things." "Very different," repeated Hannah. "And I am sure, you, Hannah, wished more than once that my mother had been of the party." "Well," said Rosina, with a sigh, "altogether it has been a pleasant day." VOL. II. "I should not have thought a rainy fête champêtre could have been very delightful." "Oh! but my dear Matthew, the rain did not begin till dinner was quite over, and even then, we amused ourselves very well under the trees." "How?" "By telling stories. Mr. Huntley invented a most beautiful tale-" "Pshaw !" Quite on the spur of the moment, Matthew!"— "Pshaw !" "And what do you think! He plays the guitar!" "Pshaw!" repeated he with tenfold emphasis. "That has lowered him ten per cent. in my opinion. How ridiculous, how contemptible, for a man, an Englishman to play on a guitar! I would as soon play on a penny whistle!" Rosina was too much hurt to reply, and they reached their garden gate in silence. Hannah and Matthew then exchanged a cordial farewell. "Good night, Matthew," said Rosina coldly. |