Such parties as these make for intimacy. On Monday evening there was scarcely a member of it who did not feel some faint regret at the breaking up that was to come on the next morning, unless it was Lord Handsworth, who had exhausted the novelty of the Sandthorpe links. Worthing had come to dine, but the only other outside guest had been Bertie Pemberton. It was near midsummer, for Easter had been late that year. Most of them were in the garden, sitting in the yew arbour, or strolling about under a sky of spangled velvet. Francis Parry was with Caroline. He had been with her a good deal during the last three days, and their friendship had taken a deeper tinge. She was a little troubled about it, and it was not by her wish that he and she found themselves detached from the group with which they had set out to stroll through the gardens. They had all gone together as far as the lily pond. This was a new bit of garden-planning on a somewhat extensive scale; for Grafton had lost no time in taking up this fascinating country pursuit, and Caroline had busied herself over its carrying out. It was actually an entirely new garden of considerable size carved out of the park. The stone-built lily pond was finished, the turf laid, the borders dug and filled, the yews planted. It had been a fascinating work to carry out, but it had had to be done in a hurry at that time of the year, and hardly as yet gave any of the impression that even a winter's passing would have foreshadowed. It was led up to by a broad flagged path, and when the company had reached the pond most of them turned back and left it again. But Francis Parry seemed more interested in it than the rest, and stayed where he was, asking questions of Caroline, who had answered most of them during earlier visits. "I suppose this is really what has kept you down here, isn't it," he asked, "when you ought to have been amusing yourself in London?" She laughed, and said: "I amuse myself better down here. I love being in the country. I don't miss London a bit?' "I like the country too," he said, "even in the summer." Caroline laughed again. "'_Even_ in the summer'!" she repeated. "It's the best of all times." "Oh, well, I know," he said. "It's more beautiful, and that's what you like about it, isn't it? It's what I like too. A night like this is heavenly. Let's stop here a few minutes and take it in. I suppose your beautiful stone seats are meant to be sat on, aren't they? We ought to do justice to your new garden." "I'm afraid you're laughing at my new garden," said Caroline. "But perhaps it will do the poor thing good to be treated as if it were really grown up. It _will_ be lovely in a year or two, you know."