“I wonder who that lady was in the pink bonnet,” said Alice. “Strangers so seldom come out at our station. I wonder who she is going to. Perhaps it is somebody for the vicarage. Oh, yes, they are all quite well. The boys came home on Friday week, and they have never been out of mischief ever since. They are in the woods all day; and the girls have begun their holidays too. Mademoiselle has gone. We wanted only you, papa, you--and Paul. But who could that lady with the pink bonnet be?” This second expression of curiosity was added artificially to cover the allusion to Paul. Sir William did not take any notice of either one or the other. “So Mademoiselle has gone?” he said. “I hope you keep order, and that mamma does not let them be too irregular. They will be far happier for a little wholesome restraint.” “I suppose so,” said Alice, dubiously. “Anyhow,” she added, “they have had nearly a fortnight all to themselves. We have all been idle; but we will settle down into right laws and proper habits now we have got you, papa.” “That will be quite necessary,” he said; then, with a slightly impatient tone, “You spoke of Paul--what is your last news of Paul?” To-to had a very sensitive mouth. At this moment he so resented some imperceptible pull of the reins, that he got into the air altogether, capering with all his four feet, and called for Alice’s complete attention. In the midst of this little excitement she said, “Paul is still at Oxford, papa. He does not write very often. Oh, you bad To-to, what do you mean by this?” “He has got very fond of Oxford all at once.” “He has all his friends there--at least some of his friends. Papa,” cried Alice, with an impulse of alarm, “I wonder who that lady can be. She is coming after us in the village fly. I saw her bonnet just now through the window, when To-to made that bolt.” “My dear, it is quite unimportant who she is--unless you think she is one of your brother’s friends. Considering who his associates are, one could never be astonished at any arrival. It may be a lady lecturer, perhaps, on Female Suffrage and Universal Equality.” “Oh, papa! because he knows one man like that! But I have something to tell you--something that makes mamma and me a little uneasy. A gentleman came on Monday--oh, not a common person at all, a _gentleman_, and very nice. We could not tell what to do, but at last, after many consultations, we made up our minds to invite him to stay.” “My dear Alice!” cried Sir William, “what do you and your mother mean? Is my house to be made into an hotel? What is the meaning of it? Am I to understand that you have taken in another nameless person, another disreputable acquaintance of Paul’s? Good heavens! is your mother mad? But I will not put up with it. My house shall not be made a refuge for adventurers, a den of----” “For that matter,” said Alice growing pale, “I suppose it is mamma’s house too.”