AGATHA came home in due time, and Magdalen sent her sister to meet her at the station, where they found a merry Clipstone party in the waggonette waiting for Gillian, who was to come home at the same time. There was so much discussion of the new golf ground, that Vera had hardly a hand or a glance to bestow on Mr. Delrio, who jumped out of the same train, shook hands with Agatha, and bestirred himself in finding her luggage and calling a cab. “How he is improved! What a pleasing, gentlemanly fellow he looks!” she exclaimed, as she waved her thanks, while driving off in the cab. “Is he not?” said Paula, while Vera bridled and blushed. “You will be delighted with his work. I never saw anything more lovely than little St. Cyriac the martyr.” “He is taken from Mrs. Henderson’s little boy,” added Vera; “such a dear little darling.” “And his mother is to be done; indeed, he has sketched her for St. Juliet.” “Flapsy! St. Romeo, too, I suppose?” “Nonsense, Nag! There really was a St. Juliet or Julitta, and she was his mother, and they both were martyrs. I will tell you all the history,” began Paula; but Agatha interposed. “You must like having him down here. Sister must be much pleased with him. She used to like old Mr. Delrio.” “Well, we have not said much about him,” owned Paula. “He does not seem to wish it, or expect to be in with swells.” “We could not stand his being treated like a common house-painter and upholsterer,” added Vera. “Surely no one does so,” said Agatha. “Not exactly,” said Paula; “at least, he has had supper at St. Kenelm’s Vicarage with Lady Flight, and luncheon at Carrara with Captain and Mrs. Henderson.” “Because he was _doing_ the child,” interposed Vera; “and Thekla says that Primrose Merrifield says that her Aunt Jane—that is, old Miss Mohun—says that Lady Flight is not a gentlewoman.” “What has that to do with Magdalen?” “Why, she is so taken up with those swells of hers, especially now that there is a talk of Lord Somebody’s yacht coming in, that she would never treat him as on equal terms, but just keep him at a distance, like a mere decorator.” “That seemed to me just what you were doing,” said Agatha, “when he was so kind and helpful about my box.” “Oh, _they_ were all there, and we did not want to be talked of,” said Vera, blushing. “He understands.” “He understands,” repeated Paula. “We do see him at the church and at the Sisters’. Those dear Sisters! There is no nonsense about them. You will love them, Nag.” “Well, it does not seem to me to be treating our own sister Magdalen fairly.” “The M.A.!” said Vera, in a tone of wonder. “No; not to be intimate with a person you do not introduce to her, because you do not think she would consider him as on equal terms.” “Sister Beata quite approves,” added Paula, sincerely, not guessing how little Sister Beata knew of the situation, of which she only heard through the medium of her own representations to Sister Mena.