'What is life, father?' 'A battle, my child, Where the strongest lance may fail; Where the wariest eyes may be beguiled, And the stoutest heart may quail; Where the foes are gathered on every hand And rest not day or night, And the feeble little ones must stand In the thickest of the fight.'--Adelaide Anne Procter. The next day the vicarage had not regained its wonted atmosphere of quiet cheerfulness, which had been its normal condition since Mildred's arrival. In vain had 'the sweet Whistler' haunted the narrow lobby outside Olive's room, where, with long legs dangling from the window-seat, he had warbled through the whole of 'Bonnie Dundee' and 'Comin' thro' the Rye;' after which, helping himself _ad libitum_ from the old-fashioned bookcase outside Mildred's chamber, he had read through the whole index of the _Shepherd's Guide_ with a fine nasal imitation of Farmer Tallentire. 'Roy, how can you be so absurd?' 'Shut up, Contradiction; don't you see I am enlightening Aunt Milly's mind--clearing it of London fogs? Always imbibe the literature of your country. People living on the fellside will find this a useful handbook of reference, containing "a proper delineation of the usual horn and ear-marks of all the members' sheep, extending from Bowes and Wensley dale to Sedbergh in Yorkshire, from Ravenstone-dale and Brough to Gillumholme in Westmorland, from Crossfell and Kirkoswold----"' Here, Chriss falling upon the book, the drawling monotone was quenched, and a sharp scuffle ensued, in which Royal made his escape, betaking himself during the remainder of the day to his glass studio and the society of congenial canaries. The day was intensely hot; Olive's headache had yielded at last to Mildred's treatment, but she seemed heavy and languid and dragged herself with difficulty to the dinner-table, shocking every one but Richard with her altered appearance. Richard had so far recovered his temper that he had made up his mind with some degree of magnanimity to ignore (at least outwardly) what had occurred. He kissed Olive coolly when she entered, and hoped, somewhat stiffly, that her head was better; but he took no notice of the yearning look in the dark eyes raised to his, though it haunted him long afterwards, neither did he address her again; and Mildred was distressed to find that Olive scarcely touched her food, and at last crept away before half the meal was over, with the excuse that her head was aching again, but in reality unable to bear the chill restraint of her brother's presence. Mildred found her giddy and confused, and yet unwilling to own herself anything but well, and with a growing sense of despondency and hopelessness that made her a trying companion for a hot afternoon. She talked Mildred and herself into a state of drowsiness at last, from which the former was roused by hearing Ethel Trelawny's voice on the terrace below.