Then there came another agitating crisis; Sir John and Lady Brotherton offered a visit to their cousin to arrange the details of their journey, and this made such an overturn in the White House as had not been known in the memory of man. To the wonder of everybody, Joscelyn made no objection to it. A shade of complacency even stole over his face as he gave his consent. “My lady--will maybe take a fancy to me, as some one else has ta’en a fancy to thee,” he said, pulling Lydia’s ear with unprecedented playfulness. Certainly the women had got him under their thumb at last. Joan and her husband came over with a great sense of importance to help to prepare for this great ceremonial, he enacting butler and she housekeeper to the admiration of all concerned. Philip Selby knew about wine, nobody could gainsay that; while his wife prepared enough of what were then called “made dishes,” and pastry and cakes, to have lasted a month instead of a day. Then the amiable pair drove home at a great rate, to dress themselves in their best and present themselves solemnly as guests to meet the strangers. Lionel Brotherton was in all these secrets; Joan and he indeed exchanged a smile of intelligence when after working together all day they met and shook hands in the evening; but he kept inviolate the confidence bestowed upon him, and never betrayed even to his mother the tremendous pains that had been taken to prepare for her, and receive her fitly. When he went up to her room after the dinner was over, to bid her good night, Lady Brotherton could not speak enough in praise of their new cousin. “You did well to say it was an idyllic life,” she cried. “You did not say a word too much, Lionel; what freshness, what simplicity, what a breath of the moor; and all so nice, such pretty curtains (Lionel himself had helped to fasten them up that morning), such nice old furniture! I thought pretty Liddy was quite an exceptional moor-blossom, but I quite understand her now. Her mother is a most refined woman. I should like to model those hands of hers; they are full of expression. And that handsome whitehaired father like a tower, quite the ideal representative of a very old impoverished family, little education, and not much to say, but with long descent in every feature!” It was all Lionel could do to keep his countenance. “I am so glad you like them, mother; I don’t know when I have been so glad; and you can’t think how kind they have been to me.” “I love them for it,” said Lady Brotherton, “not that I am surprised--for they like you, Lionel, one can see that, and nothing could be more delightful to your mother. Tell me, dear, does poor Lord Eldred come often, or is he forbidden to come? I want to know how far it has gone.” “How far what has gone?” said Lionel aghast.