Dulce knew of those placid after-dinner naps. She knew her mother's eyes would only unclose when Dorothy brought in the tea-tray; but she was also conscious that nothing would displease her mother more than to notice this habit. When they lingered in-doors, and talked in whispers so as not to disturb her, Mrs. Challoner had an extraordinary facility for striking into the conversation in a way that was somewhat confusing. "I don't agree with you at all," she would say, in a drowsy voice. "Is it not time for Dorothy to bring in the tea? I wish you would all talk louder. I must be getting a little deaf, I think, for I don't hear half you say." "Oh, it was only nonsense talk, mammie," Dulce would answer; and the sisterly chit-chat would recommence, and her mother's head nid-nodded on the cushions until the next interruption. "We shall not have many more of these strolls," observed Dick, regretfully, as they all walked together through the village, and then branched off into a long country road, where the air blew freshly in their faces and low mists hung over the meadow land. Though it was not quite dark, there was a tiny moon, and the glimmer of a star or two; and there was a pleasant fragrance as of new-mown grass. They were all walking abreast, and keeping step, and Dick was in the middle, with Nan beside him. Dulce was hanging on to her arm, and every now and then breaking into little snatches of song. "How I envy you!" exclaimed Phillis. "Think of spending three whole months in Switzerland. Oh, you lucky Dick!" For the Maynes had decided to pass the long vacation in the Engadine. Some hints had been dropped that Nan should accompany them, but Mrs. Challoner had regarded the invitation with some disfavor, and Mrs. Mayne had not pressed the point. If only Nan had known! but her mother had in this matter kept her own counsel. "I don't know about that," dissented Dick; he was rather given to argue from the mere pleasure of opposition. "Mountains and glaciers are all very well in their way; but I think, on the whole, I would as soon be here. You see, I am so accustomed to mix with a lot of fellows, that I am afraid of finding the pater's sole company rather slow." "For shame!" remarked his usual monitress. But she spoke gently: in her heart she knew why Dick failed to find the mountains alluring. "Why could not one of you girls join us?" he continued, wrathfully. The rogue had fairly bullied the unwilling Mrs. Mayne into giving that invitation. "Do ask her, mother; she will be such a nice companion for you when the pater and I are doing our climbing; do, there's a dear good soul!" he had coaxed. And the dear good soul, who was secretly jealous of Nan, and loved her about as much as mothers usually love an only son's choice, had bewailed her hard fate in secret; and had then stepped over to the cottage with a bland and cheerful exterior, which grew more cheerful as Mrs. Challoner's reluctance made itself felt.