"So do I, my dear, and soon too. It shall be better for you when it is. Why Ann should have left my brother Hugh and you unmentioned in her will, I cannot tell; but it was very unjust of her, and I will make it up to you, Edina, in a small way. Frank is to have three thousand pounds when the money turns up, and you shall have the same." Edina smiled. She thought the promise very safe and very hopeless: though she knew the good-hearted speaker meant what he said. "Thank you all the same, Uncle Francis, but I do not want any of the money; and I am sure you will have ways and means for every shilling of it, however much it may prove to be. How long does Frank mean to remain abroad?" "Well, I conclude he is waiting for the money to turn up," said the major. "Is it wise of him to stay so long, do you think?" "I'm sure I don't know. When he receives the money he will return to London and settle down." And so they chatted on. Mrs. Raynor, who had been lying down with a headache, came out and joined them. The afternoon wore on, and croquet came to an end. Mr. Stane approached to say good-bye. "Won't you stay dinner?" asked the major. "I should like to very much indeed, but I must go home," replied the young man: and once more, as Edina watched the sincere face and heard the earnest tone, she decided that she liked him. "My father particularly desired me to be at home to dinner: he was feeling less well again." "Then you must stay with us next time," spoke the hospitable major. And Mr. Stane shook hands all round, leaving Alice to the last, and being somewhat longer over it with her than he need have been. His departure was the signal for a general break-up. Major and Mrs. Raynor went indoors, Charles strolled across the lawn with William Stane. Edina retained her place and went on with her work. Charles soon came back again, and sat down by her. "What a pity you don't play croquet, Edina! The last game was a good one." "If I had all my time on my hands as you have, Charley, and nothing to do with it, I might perhaps take up croquet. I can't tell." "I know what that tone means, Edina. You want to find fault with me for idleness." "I could find fault with you for a good many things, Charles. The idleness is not the worst of it." "What is the worst?" asked Charles, amused. "You have so changed in these few weeks that I ask myself whether you can be the same single-minded, simple-hearted young people who lived at Spring Lawn. I speak of you and Alice, Charley." "Circumstances have changed," returned Charles. "Alice"--for the girl at that moment came up to them--"Edina's saying we have so changed since leaving Bath that she wonders whether we are ourselves or not. How have we changed, pray, Edina?" "Your minds and manners are changing," coolly spoke Edina, beginning to turn down the hem on the other side of the handkerchief. "Do you know what sort of people you put me in mind of now?" "No. What?" "Of nouveaux riches."