The day went on to evening, and tea was being taken at Dr. Raynor's. Five o'clock was the usual hour for the meal, and it was now nearly seven: but the doctor had been some miles into the country to see a wealthy patient, and Edina waited for him. They sat round the table in the best parlour; the one of which the bow-window looked on to the street; the other room was chiefly used for breakfast and dinner. Its warm curtains were drawn before the window now, behind the small table that held the stand of beautiful white coral, brought home years ago by Major Raynor; the fire burned brightly; two candles stood near the tea-tray. Behind the doctor, who sat facing the window, was a handsome cabinet, a few choice books on its shelves. Frank, reading a newspaper and sipping his tea, sat between his uncle and Edina. This was the night of the ball at The Mount. Edina was going to it. A most unusual dissipation for her; one she was quite unaccustomed to. Trennach afforded no opportunity for this sort of visiting, and it would have been all the same to Miss Raynor if it had. As she truly said, she had not been to a dance for years and years. Frank was making merry over it, asking her whether she could remember her "steps." "I am sorry you accepted for me, papa," she suddenly said. "I have regretted it ever since." "Why, Edina?" "It is not in my way, you know, papa. And I have had the trouble of altering a dress. "Mrs. St. Clare was good enough to press your going, Edina--she candidly told me she wanted more ladies--and I did not like to refuse. She wanted _me_ to go," added Dr. Raynor, with a broad smile. "I'm sure, papa, you would be as much of an ornament at a ball as I shall be--and would be far more welcome to Mrs. St. Clare," said Edina. "Ornament? Oh, I leave that to Frank." "I dare say you could dance, even now, as well as I can, papa." Something like a flash of pain crossed his face. _He_ dance now! Edina little thought how near--if matters with regard to himself were as he suspected--how very near he was to the end of all things. "You looked tired, papa," she said. "I am tired, child. That horse of mine does not seem to carry me as easily as he did. Or perhaps it is I who feel his action more. What do you say, Frank?" "About the horse, uncle? I think he is just as easy to ride as he always was." Dr. Raynor suppressed a sigh, and quitted the room. Frank rose, put his elbow on the mantelpiece, and glanced at his good-looking face in the glass. "What time do you mean to start, Edina?" "At half-past eight. _I_ don't wish to go in later than the card says--nine o'clock. It is a shame to invite people for so late an hour!" "It is late for Trennach," acknowledged Frank; "but would be early for some places. Mrs. St. Clare has brought her fashionable hours with her." At that moment, the entrance-door was pushed violently open, and an applicant was heard to clatter in, in a desperate hurry. Frank went out to see.