She went, of all places in the world, poor Constance! to the Durants’ in search of a little variety. Their loggia also was covered with an awning; but they did not venture into it till the sun was going down. They had their tea-table in the drawing-room, which, till the eyes grew accustomed to it, was quite dark, with one ray of subdued light stealing in from the open door of the loggia, but the blinds all closed and the windows. Here Constance was directed, by the glimmer of reflection in the teapot and china, to the spot where the family were sitting, Mrs Durant and Tasie languidly waving their fans. The _dolce far niente_ was not appreciated in that clerical house. Tasie thought it her duty to be always doing something--knitting at least for a bazaar, if it was not light enough for other work. But the heat had overcome even Tasie; though it could not, if it had been tropical, do away with the little furnace of the hot tea. They all received Constance with the languid delight of people in an atmosphere of ninety degrees, to whom no visitor has appeared, nor any incident happened, all day. “Oh, Miss Waring,” said Tasie, “we have just had a great disappointment. Some one sent us the ‘Queen’ from home, and we looked directly for the drawing-room, to see Frances’ name and how she was dressed; but it is not there.” “No,” said Constance; “the 29th is her day.” “Oh, that is what I said, mamma. I said we must have mistaken the date. It couldn’t be that there was any mistake about going, when she wrote and told us. I knew the date must be wrong.” “Many things may occur at the last moment to stop one, Tasie. I have known a lady with her dress all ready laid out on the bed; and circumstances happened so that she could not go.” “That is by no means a singular experience, my dear,” said Mr Durant, who in his black coat was almost invisible. “I have known many such cases; and in matters more important than drawing-rooms.” “There was the Sangazures,” said the clergyman’s wife--“don’t you recollect? Lady Alice was just putting on her bonnet to go to her daughter’s marriage, when----” “It is really unnecessary to recall so many examples,” said Constance. “No doubt they are all quite true; but as a matter of fact, in this case the date was the 29th.” “Oh, I hope,” said Tasie, “that somebody will send us another ‘Queen’; for I should be so sorry to miss seeing about Frances. Have you heard, Miss Waring, how she is to be dressed?” “It will be the usual white business,” said Constance, calmly. “You mean--all white? Yes, I suppose so; and the material, silk or satin, with tulle? Oh yes, I have no doubt; but to see it all written down, with the drapings and _bouillonnés_ and all that, makes it so much more real. Don’t you think so? Dear Frances, she always looked so nice in white--which is trying to many people. I really cannot wear white, for my part.”