"And one is worse than a dozen. When there's a lot you can leave 'em to fight it out among themselves. But one!--to have one stalking about an empty house, like a ghost dipped in ink! Why can't you ask anybody but clergymen, mother? There are whole lots of people would like to run down from London for a fortnight before getting into the thick of the season: there's the Pomeroy girls as good as offered to come." "But they can't come by themselves," Mrs. Trelyon said with a feeble protest. "Oh yes, they can: they're ugly enough to be safe anywhere. And why don't you get Juliott up? She'll be glad to get away from that old curmudgeon for a week. And you ought to ask the Trewhellas, father and daughter, to dinner: that old fellow is not half a bad sort of fellow, although he's a clergyman." "Harry," said his mother, interrupting him, "I'll fill the house if that will please you; and you shall ask just whomsoever you please." "All right," said he: "the place wants waking up." "And then," said the mother, wishing to be still more gracious, "you might ask Miss Rosewarne to dine with us: she might come well enough, although Mr. Roscorla is not here." A sort of gloom fell over the young man's face again: "I can't ask her--you may if you like." Mrs. Trelyon stared: "What is the matter, Harry? Have you and she quarreled? Why, I was going to ask you, if you were down in the village to-day, to say that I should like to see her." "And how could I take such a message?" the young man said, rather warmly, "I don't see why the girl should be ordered up to see you as if you were conferring a favor on her by joining in this scheme. She's very hard-worked; you have got plenty of time; you ought to call on her and study her convenience, instead of making her trot all the way up here whenever you want to talk to her." The pale and gentle woman flushed a little, but she was anxious not to give way to petulance just then: "Well, you are quite right, Harry: it was thoughtless of me. I should like to go down and see her this morning; but I have sent Jakes over to the blacksmith's, and I am afraid of that new lad." "Oh, I will drive you down to the inn. I suppose among them they can put the horses to the wagonette," the young man said, not very graciously: and then Mrs. Trelyon went off to get ready. It was a beautiful, fresh morning, the far-off line of the sea still and blue, the sunlight lighting up the wonderful masses of primroses along the tall banks, the air sweet with the resinous odor of the gorse. Mrs. Trelyon looked with a gentle and childlike pleasure on all these things, and was fairly inclined to be very friendly with the young gentleman beside her. But he was more than ordinarily silent and morose. Mrs. Trelyon knew she had done nothing to offend him, and thought it hard she should be punished for the sins of anybody else.