He did not address her again immediately, but turned to Lucia, dropping the eyeglass, and resuming his normal condition. "You will go, of course?" he said. Lucia glanced across at my lady. "I--do not know. Grandmamma"-- "Oh!" interposed Barold, "you must go. There is no reason for your refusing the invitation, unless you wish to imply something unpleasant--which is, of course, out of the question." "But there may be reasons"--began her ladyship. "Burmistone is my friend," put in Barold, in his coolest tone; "and I am your relative, which would make my position in his house a delicate one, if he has offended you." When Lucia saw Octavia again, she was able to tell her that they had received invitations to the _fête_, and that Lady Theobald had accepted them. "She has not spoken a word to me about it, but she has accepted them," said Lucia. "I don't quite understand her lately, Octavia. She must be very fond of Francis Barold. He never gives way to her in the least, and she always seems to submit to him. I know she would not have let me go, if he had not insisted on it, in that taking-it-for-granted way of his." Naturally Mr. Burmistone's _fête_ caused great excitement. Miss Chickie was never so busy in her life, and there were rumors that her feelings had been outraged by the discovery that Mrs. Burnham had sent to Harriford for costumes for her daughters. "Slowbridge is changing, mem," said Miss Chickie, with brilliant sarcasm. "Our ladies is led in their fashions by a Nevada young person. We're improving most rapid--more rapid than I'd ever have dared to hope. Do you prefer a frill, or a flounce, mem?" Octavia was in great good spirits at the prospect of the gayeties in question. She had been in remarkably good spirits for some weeks. She had received letters from Nevada, containing good news she said. Shares had gone up again; and her father had almost settled his affairs, and it would not be long before he would come to England. She looked so exhilarated over the matter, that Lucia felt a little aggrieved. "Will you be so glad to leave us, Octavia?" she asked. "We shall not be so glad to let you go. We have grown very fond of you." "I shall be sorry to leave you, and aunt Belinda is going with us. You don't expect me to be very fond of Slowbridge, do you, and to be sorry I can't take Mrs. Burnham--and the rest?" Barold was present when she made this speech, and it rather rankled. "Am I one of 'the rest'?" he inquired, the first time he found himself alone with her. He was sufficiently piqued to forget his usual _hauteur_ and discretion. "Would you like to be?" she said. "Oh! Very much--very much--naturally," he replied severely. They were standing near a rose-bush in the garden; and she plucked a rose, and regarded it with deep interest. "Well," she said, next, "I must say I think I shouldn't have had such a good time if you hadn't been here. You have made it livelier." "Tha-anks," he remarked. "You are most kind."