I am so glad that she and your sister will meet in Venice.

Madame de Chateauvieux is just the friend she wants.' Kendal walked home feeling the rankling of a fresh pin-point.

She had asked for him, and he had not been there! What must she think, apparently, but that, from a sour, morose consistency, he had refused to be a witness of her triumph! Oh, hostile fates! * * * * * A week later Eustace was settled in the Surrey farmhouse which had sheltered the Sunday League on its first expedition.

The Surrey country was in its full glory: the first purple heather was fully out, and the distant hills rose blue and vaporous across stretches of vivid crimson, broken here and there by the dim gray greens of the furze or the sharper colour of the bracken.

The chorus of birds had died away, but the nests were not yet tenantless.