"It didn't matter; I drove over to do the horse good," said the young man, shaking hands warmly with Julia in turn. "Here, let me introduce my friend Magnus. Julia, this is James Magnus. Cynthia, Magnus the artist." "Lord Artingale has often spoken of you, Mr Magnus," said Cynthia, looking at him rather coquettishly, in fact as if she was better used to London society than the quietude of a country rectory. "He has promised to bring me some day to see your pictures." "I shall only be too proud to show you what I am doing," said the artist, meeting frankly the bright eyes that were shooting at him, but which gave him up directly as a bad mark, as he turned and began talking to Julia Mallow, who seemed to have become singularly quiet and dreamy, but who brightened up directly and listened eagerly, for she found that Magnus could talk sensibly and well. "Are you going to stay up long?" said Lord Artingale, gazing imploringly in Cynthia's eyes. "I don't know, indeed," she replied, pouting. "Papa has brought mamma to see a fresh physician, but is so cross and strange now. He has been reforming the parish, as he calls it." "Yes; so I heard," said Lord Artingale, laughing. "And that has meant quarrelling with all the stupid townspeople, and setting them against us." "Not against you, Cynthia," said the young man in a low voice. "I don't believe that." "Don't talk nonsense, Harry," she replied, laughing; "not now. But really it is very unpleasant, you know, for it makes papa so cross." "Of course it would," said Lord Artingale, sympathisingly. "And he talks about being so poor, and says that we shall all be ruined, and makes poor mamma miserable." "But he is not in want of money, is he?" cried the young man, eagerly. "Nonsense! No: that's how he always talks when Frank and Cyril are at home. Oh, Harry, I'm afraid they are dreadful boys." "Well, let's try and make them better, eh, Cynthia?" "I said you were not to talk nonsense now," said Cynthia, shaking her pretty little head at him. "Oh, murder!" he exclaimed, suddenly. "Hadn't you better drive on? Here's Perry-Morton." "No, no," exclaimed the younger girl, "it would look so rude. You silly thing, don't blush so," she whispered to her sister; "it looks so strange." "Good-morning--" said the subject of the thoughts of the group; and Mr Perry-Morton descended poetically upon them, for he did not seem to walk up like an ordinary being. "Cynthia," he continued, with an air of affectionate solicitude, and leaving out the full-stops he had placed after his two first words, "you look too flushed this morning, my child. Julia, is not the morning charming? Did you notice the effect of light and shade across the water?" Julia Mallow, who looked troubled and bored, replied that she had not. "You observed it, of course, Mr Magnus?" continued the new-comer, with a sweet smile. "No," said the gentleman addressed, shortly. "I was talking to the ladies."