Time hung rather heavily on Kenneth's hand. The raw damp autumn offered little temptation to exercise out of doors. His daily ride to Glen Effick was discontinued, his friends having left; and he smoked cigars in the billiard-room, or wrote letters in his own, the live-long day. Julia, hitherto so available, was now never to be found when wanted, or if she did appear, her ready sympathy with the whim of the moment, and her quickness to suggest congenial pastime, seemed to have forsaken her. She sat mostly in her own room now, or in Lady Caroline's, which, as far as Kenneth's entertainment was concerned, was much the same thing. She, who had formerly taken so much interest in mess-room reminiscences and general gossip, would now look up vacantly when she was addressed, as though her thoughts had been far away, and were only induced to return for a moment by a sense of politeness. The distribution of the morning letters would rouse her a little--there appeared always to be letters for her now--but having secured her own, she would relapse into abstraction, and seize the earliest opportunity to withdraw. Kenneth had letters of his own to write now, and knew all about the coming in and going out of mails for Torquay. But that occupied only a portion of his time, and he felt aggrieved that Julia should be so pre-occupied. 'What is the use of a girl in the house if she is always to be busy?' He expressed his discontent to Lady Caroline, who was immensely amused. 'Julia is engaged, Kenneth, or almost; for it is not announced yet.' 'I am very glad to hear it, mother, I am sure. If the girl had stayed here much longer without marrying, she might have felt herself badly used if I did not marry her myself. And I do not know that I am equal to marrying for politeness. But why should that prevent her being jolly at home? unless, indeed, the man is Bluebeard, and she expects a bad time? _I_ am engaged myself, but I think I could be jolly on that account, if only there was opportunity.' Lady Caroline said nothing; but she was amused, as often before, at the single-minded egotism of his lordly sex, which knows no law but its own pleasure, and imagines that must be equally delightful to every one else. The male baby graciously believes that it pleases his nurse to sing herself hoarse in coaxing him to sleep, and he is pleased that she should make herself happy, shaking his rattle till her arm aches, in endeavouring to amuse him; and all subsequent female ministrations to his solacement are accepted in the like simple good faith that it must be joy to the girl to be merry in his company, and that mirth is its own reward.