"Look like yourself and your people, Denas. That be the best finery. If roses and lilies did grow on the dusty high-road, they would not be as fitly pretty as blue-bells and daisies. I do think that, Denas; and it be the very same with women. Burrell Court is a matter of two miles beyond St. Penfer; 'tis a long walk, my dear, and dress for the walk and the weather. Do, my dear!" Then the subject was changed, and Denas, having won her way, was really grateful and disposed to make the evening happy for all. She recollected many a little bit of pleasantry; she mimicked Priscilla to admiration, merrily and without ill-will, and then she took the story paper and read a thrilling account of some great shipwrecks and a poem that seemed to John and Joan's simple minds "the sweetest bit of word music that could be." At the same hour Elizabeth and Roland were playing an identical role under different circumstances. Roland had hoped to slip away to his room unobserved. He knew Miss Burrell had gone to a friend's house for a day or two, and he thought Robert and Elizabeth would be sufficiently occupied with each other. But some gentlemen were with Robert on parish business, and Elizabeth was alone and well inclined to come to an understanding with her brother. "Caroline had to go without an escort, Roland. It was too bad," she said reproachfully as she stood in the open door of a parlour and waited for his approach. "You see I am wet through, Elizabeth. I will change my clothing and come to you. Where is Robert?" "With the churchwardens. I want to talk to you seriously. We shall be alone for an hour. Come as soon as you can." "In five minutes. It will be delightful to have you all to myself once more." He came back quickly and placed his chair close to hers, and lifted her face to his face and kissed her, saying fondly, "My dear little sister." "Where have you been, Roland?" "I could have bet on the words 'Where have you been?' That is always a woman's first question." "Have you been with Denas?" "I have been at the Black Lion and at Tremaine's. We will suppose that I wished to see Denas--is this pouring rain a fit condition? Do think of something more likely, Elizabeth." "Say to me plainly: 'I have not seen Denas.'" "If you wish me to say the words, consider that I have done so. Why have you taken a dislike to Denas? You used to be very fond of her." "I have not taken any dislike to the girl. I have simply passed out of the season of liking her. In the early spring we find the violet charming, but when summer comes we forget the violet in the rose and the lily and the garden full of richer flowers. The time for Denas has passed--that is all, Roland. What are you going to do about Caroline? When will you ask her to marry you?" "I have asked her twice already; once in Rome, when she put me off; and again in London, when she decidedly refused me." "What did she say?"