The day came at last, and at last, most earnestly looked for, in a carriage filled with the Sedgwick children, and, I believe, all the flowers in Clara’s conservatory, and all that could be come by honestly or dishonestly within ten miles of country--Alice Harley made her appearance. To show emphatically how much I was mistaken in supposing that _any reason_ could keep her away from Hilfont when her dear Mrs. Crofton wished her to be there, Alice with rash temerity had volunteered to take charge of the children, and come with them early and alone. In the same spirit she had actually taken a little trouble with her dress, which was new, full, soft, and delicate--if not white, as nearly so as Alice’s conscience and profound conviction of her grave years could permit it to be. She was on her defence, but not exactly defiant as yet--a little melted in spite of herself by sundry associations of the place and time--by good news from Maurice, which she whispered in my ear, news of an appointment which her brother had got after much exertion, and which would enable him to marry; and perhaps a little by the honor which she knew her “old playfellow” had come to. I saw her cast a momentary but somewhat eager look at Bertie’s breast when she saw him first, but to my disappointment, as to hers, his decoration was not there. And then Alice had a present for me. I had by me a little present to be given to her on the same occasion--an old ornament of my own, which I thought, for that reason at least, the prim Alice might perhaps be induced to wear. The children had gone away with their attendants, to be extricated out of the many wrappings in which their mother’s care had enveloped them. Only Derwie stayed with us in the breakfast-room; the child was extremely anxious about these two, I could not tell why. Some unconscious link of association, or acute childish observation, connected them in little Derwent’s mind. He stood by my side on pretence of waiting till Clary and the rest were ready, but I believe in my heart from sheer curiosity and interest in these affairs of life and humanity which were so deeply attractive to my son. Alice was seated near the great window, her pretty figure visible against the light, looking fresher and more youthful than she had done for a long time, and the soft breadth of landscape without, making a pleasant background to the picture. A little more in the shade stood Bertie, and Derwie and I were opposite Alice, with a little table between us, all full in the light of the large bow-window, from which all curtains and obscuring influences--such was my husband’s cheerful pleasure--were always drawn as much back as possible. My present to Alice was a little gold chain for the neck. I like that fashion of ornament. This one was long enough to encircle that pretty throat twice, or to hang loose upon her breast if she pleased. I said it wanted a pendant, as I threw it loosely round her neck.