So it was hardly surprising, in face of the dominant direction of her thoughts to-night, that, when the Miss Minetts' name punctuated Theresa's discourse recurrent as a cuckoo-cry, remembrance of their merrily inglorious retirement from the region of Faircloth's Inn should present itself.

Whereupon Damaris' serious mood was lightened as by sudden sunshine, and she laughed.
Hearing which infectiously gay but quite unexpected sound, Miss Bilson stopped dead in the middle both of a nectarine and a sentence.
"What is the matter, Damaris ?" she exclaimed.

"I was explaining our difficulty in securing sufficient conveyances for some of our party to and from Marychurch station.

I really do not see any cause for amusement in what I said." "There wasn't anything amusing, dear Billy, I'm sure there wasn't," Damaris returned, the corners of her mouth still quivering and her eyes very bright.

"I beg your pardon.