"Then you do not mean to go?" said Mrs. Vavasour. "I have not said so," he answered--"I shall put the matter calmly before Maria; tell her what I think are the reasons for and against, and leave her to decide. I suppose she cannot complain of that." "I do not imagine for a moment she will complain," replied Mrs. Vavasour; "but I think she will want your judgment to help her." He only muttered something in answer to this; and Madelon asked in a low voice, "Is it about going abroad that Monsieur Horace is doubting?" "Yes, he told you about it, did he not?" said Mrs. Vavasour. "I hope he may decide to go--it would be the very thing for him." "Do you think so?" said Graham, who had overheard this last remark; and turning to Madelon with rather a melancholy smile, "Listen to the description, Madelon, and tell me what you think of it--a little town on the shores of the Mediterranean, sheltered on every side by hills, so that all the winter is spring, and flowers bloom all the year round. The gardens are full of pomegranate and orange trees, and the hills are terraced with vineyards, and covered with olives and chestnuts everywhere else. Do you think that that sounds inviting?" "A great deal too good to be true," said Mrs. Vavasour, laughing. "I never believe thoroughly in these earthly paradises." But Madelon did not laugh; her eyes lighted up, her cheeks glowed. "Ah!" she cried, "I can imagine all that. I believe in such places; they exist somewhere in the world, but one cannot get to them." "One can sometimes," said Graham; "for perhaps Maria and I are going to this one, and then you had better become an invalid as fast as possible, Madelon, that Aunt Barbara may bring you there too." "And you are really going?" she asked, with a sad sick feeling at her heart. "Perhaps," he said, "we shall see what Maria says. I am afraid she may not take the same view of it all that you do;" and Maria coming in at that moment, the conversation dropped.