So it was agreed. They stood at the hall door after breakfast and looked at the rain. Then Grafton went into the library, and was soon immersed in his writing. Even that was rather agreeable, for a change. It was so quiet and secluded in this old book-lined room. And there was the ride to come, pleasant to look forward to even if it continued to rain, trotting along the muddy roads, between the hedges and trees and fields, and coming back with the two girls and the boy to a lunch that would have been earned by exercise. Everything was pleasant in this quiet easy life, of which the present hour's letter-writing and going through of papers was the only thing needed to keep the machinery going, at least by him. It was only a pity that B wasn't there. He missed B, with her loving merry ways, and she did love Abington, and the life there, as much as any of them. He would write a line to his little B, up in Scotland, before he went out, and tell her that he wanted her back, and she'd better come quickly. She couldn't be enjoying herself as much as she would if she came home, to her ever loving old Daddy. The second post came in just as he had finished. Caroline had already looked in to say that she was going up to change. He took the envelopes and the papers from old Jarvis, and looked at certain financial quotations before going through the letters. There was only one he wanted to open before going upstairs. It was from Beatrix--a large square envelope addressed in an uneven rather sprawling hand, not yet fully formed. Caroline waited for him in the hall. The horses were being led up and down outside. He was usually a model of punctuality, but she was already considering going up to see what had happened to him when he came down the shallow stairs, in his breeches and gaiters. "What a time you've been!" she said. He did not reply, and had his back to her as old Jarvis helped him on with his raincoat and handed him his gloves and crop. She did not notice that there was anything wrong with him until they were mounted and had set off. Then she saw his face and exclaimed in quick alarm: "What's the matter, darling? Aren't you well?" His voice was not like his as he replied: "I've had a letter from B. She says she's engaged to Lassigny." Caroline had to use her brain quickly to divine how such a piece of news would affect him. But for his view of it, it would have been only rather exciting. She knew Lassigny, and liked him. "I didn't know he was there," she said lamely. "She hadn't told me that he was," he said. "I suppose he went up there after her--got himself an invitation. He's staying in the house." "I don't think he'd do anything underhand, Dad." "I don't say it would be underhand. If he hasn't done that he must have been invited with all the rest, and she must have known it. But she never said so."