“Ben is splendid!” he exclaimed, “the twinkle in his eye, the white spot on his lip, and his Sunday-go-to-meeting expression. Ah! and let me see--my ‘Sweet,’ her most angelic and butter-would-not-melt-in-my-mouth look! Beautiful child!” apostrophizing her. “I think I can manage to remember _you_ without the assistance of a speaking likeness!” “Uncle Pelham, how can you be so horrid!” remonstrated Honor, taking him in to lunch. Luncheon (tiffin) was an exceedingly merry meal. It is well that we cannot see into the future, for dinner was the most dismal repast that the present tenants had ever discussed under the red-tiled roof of Rookwood. Mark Jervis had been ten days with the Brandes, and had never found an opportunity yet of opening his heart, or telling his secret to Miss Gordon. Now that he was under the same roof, his hopes fell low, and his courage ebbed. He believed that she would be extremely indignant when she heard the truth from his own lips, viz. that _he_ was the millionaire! Moreover, “that diabolical child,” as, alas! he had now begun to call her, never left them alone, or out of her sight for one second. He had become an ardent convert to Mr. and Mrs. Brande’s views--though he kept his conversion strictly to himself! That same afternoon he found that his opportunity was approaching. Sweet was engaged to a children’s party, Mrs. Brande was pledged to attend a mothers’ meeting. Mr. Brande, who was busy over some returns, said-- “Honor, you and Jervis go up the forest road and I will be after you in a quarter of an hour. No ponies, we will walk, and give ourselves a colour, and an appetite. You may as well take Ben, and give him a run among the monkeys.” Honor and her escort set out, he with his arm still in a sling, and they walked briskly along the wide sandy carriage-road that wound up and up, at a very gentle slope among the pines. It was a delicious, still afternoon; the aromatic smell of the woods had impregnated the thin hill air, and acted on their spirits like champagne. “Our nephew,” alluding to Ben, who was cantering gaily ahead, “seems to be enjoying himself,” remarked Jervis. “He does; this is his favourite road. That was a happy thought about _his_ present!” “Yes,” with a smile, “I’m glad Mrs. Brande was so pleased. Mrs. Sladen helped me with suggestions.” “Poor Mrs. Sladen. She says that only for you she would have been killed the day that Toby Joy sent you both down the khud--that you put out your arm and saved her, and you won’t even allow her to say so.” “No, indeed; I certainly will not.” “Colonel Sladen has been winning, and I have great hopes that he may allow her to go home this season.” “I hope he will, with all my heart; if I were her, I would remain at home, for good.” “She has not seen her children for five years, and little things forget so soon.” “Not always,” significantly. “Our little friend has a wonderful memory!”