As if to escape her thoughts, she rose and stood at the window, looking forth on the landscape. It was very beautiful. There were hills near and far off, a wide extent of wood and snatches of gleaming water, green meadows, and a field or two of yellow corn that had ripened late. The leaves on the trees were already beginning to put on their autumn tints. On the lawn were many beds of bright flowers. Under a tree sat the major, sipping a champagne-cup, of which he was fond. Beyond, three young people were playing at croquet: Charles, Alice, and William Stane; the latter a son of Sir Philip Stane, who lived near them. Through one of the bare fields, where the corn had been already reaped and gathered, walked Mademoiselle Delrue, the French governess, and little Kate. Alfred was at school. Robert was generally with his nurse. Mademoiselle, a finished pianist, superintended Alice's music and read French with her; also took Robert for French: otherwise her duties all lay with Kate. It was, of course, well to have a resident French governess and to pay her sixty guineas a-year if they could afford it: but, altogether, one might have supposed Major Raynor had dropped into an income of five or six thousand a-year, instead of only two thousand. A shout and a laugh from the croquet lawn caused Edina to look towards the players. The game was at an end. At the same moment Alice saw Edina. She threw down her mallet, and ran upstairs. "Why don't you come out, Edina? It is a lovely afternoon." "I came up for my work, dear, and stayed thinking," replied Edina, drawing Alice to her side and keeping her arm round her. "What were you thinking about?" "Of many things. Chiefly about you and Charley. You both seem so changed." "Do we?" "And not for the better." Alice laughed. She was nearly eighteen now, and very pretty. Her head was lifted with a conscious air: she played with one of the lilac bows on her white dress. "I know what you mean, Edina: you heard mamma telling me this morning that I was growing vain." "No, I did not hear her." But Edina said no more just then. "Is Mr. Stane often here?" she asked, presently. "Oh--yes--pretty often," replied Alice with a vivid blush. "He and Charles are good friends. And--and he lives near us, you know." The blush and the hesitation seemed to hint at a story Edina had not yet glanced at. She had but been wondering whether this young Stane was a desirable companion for Charles: one likely to encourage him in idleness and extravagance, or to turn his ideas towards better things. "Mr. Stane is older than Charley, Alice." "Several years older. He is a barrister, and lives at his chambers in the Temple. Just now he is down here a great deal on account of his father's illness." "Are they rich people?" "No, I think not. Not very rich. Of course Sir Philip has plenty of money, and he has retired from practice. He used to be a lawyer in the City of London, and was knighted for something or other."