Rupert was vexed, both at being set down in a way he did not expect, and because he was really sorry that his wounded self-conceit bad led him to do what he saw had mortified Elizabeth more than he had intended. 'What is it? what is it?' asked Katherine. 'Never mind, Kate,' said Rupert. 'Well, but what fun is it?' persisted Katherine. 'Only downright nonsense,' said Rupert, looking down, and unconsciously drawing very strange devices on the blotting paper, 'unworthy the attention of so wise a lady.' 'Only the dry bones of an ill-natured joke,' said Lady Merton, who had seen all that passed, from the other end of the table. She spoke so low as only to be heard by her son; but Elizabeth saw his colour deepen, and, as he rose and went to the piano, she felt sorry for him, and soon found an opportunity of reminding him that he had promised to draw something for Edward's scrap-book, and asked him if he would do so now. 'Willingly,' said Rupert, 'but only on one condition, Lizzie.' 'What?' said Elizabeth. 'That you give me back that foolish thing,' said Rupert, fixing his eyes intently on the coach and horses which he was drawing. 'There it is,' said Elizabeth, restoring it to him. 'No, no, Rupert, do not tear it up, it is the cleverest thing you ever drew, Sir Walter is excellent.' Yet, in spite of this commendation, Rupert had torn his performance into the smallest scraps, before his sister came back to the table. Anne had been in some anxiety ever since the conclusion of the games; but Sir Edward and Mr. Woodbourne were standing between her and the table, so that she could neither see nor hear, and when at length she had finished playing, and was released, she found Rupert and Elizabeth so quiet, and so busy with their several employments, that she greatly dreaded that all had not gone right. She bethought herself of the sketches Rupert had made in Scotland, asked him to fetch them, and by their help, she contrived to restore the usual tone of conversation between the cousins, so that the remainder of the evening passed away very pleasantly. When Anne and Elizabeth awoke the following morning, Anne said that she had remembered, the evening before, just when it was too late to do anything, that the last Sunday Rupert had left his Prayer-book behind him at St. Austin's; and as they were to set off on their journey homewards immediately after breakfast, she asked Elizabeth whether there would be time to walk to the new church and fetch it before breakfast. 'I think it would be a very pleasant walk in the freshness of the morning, if you like to go,' said she. 'Oh yes,' said Elizabeth, 'there is plenty of time, and I should like the walk very much; but really, Anne, you spoil that idle boy in a terrible way.' 'Ah! Rupert is an only son,' said Anne; 'he has a right to be spoilt.'