They were so full of these delightful reminiscences that they were at the cottage gate before they knew it; and then Dick astonished them by refusing to come in. He had quite forgotten, he said, but his mother had asked him to come home early, as she was not feeling just the thing. "Quite right; you must do as she wishes," returned Nan, dismissing him far too readily, as he thought; but she said "Good-night!" with so kind a smile after that, that the foolish young fellow felt his pulses quicken. Dick lingered at the corner until the cottage door was closed, and then he raced down the Longmead shrubbery and set the house-bell pealing. "They are in the library, I suppose?" he asked of the butler who admitted him; and, on receiving an answer in the affirmative, he dashed unceremoniously into the room, while his mother held up her finger and smiled at the truant. "You naughty boy, to be so late; and now you have spoiled you father's nap!" she said, pretending to scold him. "Tut! tut! what nonsense you talk sometimes!" said Mr. Mayne, rather crossly, as he stood on the hearth-rug rubbing his eyes. "I was not asleep, I will take my oath of that; only I wish Dick could sometimes enter a room without making people jump;" by which Dick knew that his father was in one of his contrary moods, when he could be very cross,--very cross indeed! CHAPTER III. MR. MAYNE MAKES HIMSELF DISAGREEABLE. The library at Longmead was a very pleasant room, and it was the custom of the family to retire thither on occasions when guests were not forthcoming, and Mr. Mayne could indulge in his favorite nap without fear of interruption. A certain simplicity, not to say homeliness, of manners prevailed in the house. It was understood among them that the dining-room was far too gorgeous for anything but occasions of ceremony. Mrs. Mayne, indeed, had had the good taste to cover the satin couches with pretty, fresh-looking cretonne, and had had arranged hanging cupboards of old china until it had been transformed into a charming apartment, notwithstanding which the library was declared to be the family-room, where the usual masculine assortment of litter could be regarded with indulgent eyes, and where papers and pamphlets lay in delightful confusion.