"Poor Eugenia," she thought. "It isn't only these outside things which are wrong, I fear. If other things had equalled her hopes, these would have been all right. The want lies deeper, I fear--the blank is one hard to fill. How I wish I could see her!" The next week brought Eugenia's invitation. It would have been difficult to decline it. "You _must_ come," she wrote. "I am living in the thoughts of it, Sydney; it will be absolute cruelty to refuse. I cannot tell you how I long to see you all again." So, though leaving home even for a few days, was now no small effort to Mr Laurence, and though Frank Thurston groaned a good deal in anticipation, he "hated fine houses and grand people," and all _his_ people, the East-enders of Wareborough, would go to the bad in double-quick time if he let them out of his sight for the best part of a week; who would take the night schools? who would see to the confirmation classes? etc, etc, etc--it ended, as Sydney had quietly determined it should, in a letter of acceptance being sent to Halswood by return of post. And Mrs Thurston took the opportunity of chaffing her husband a little on what she termed his growing self-conceit. "`Un bon pretre,'" she said, "`c'est bien bon.' I quite agree with Jean Valjean. But still, Frank, of the very best of things it is possible to have too much." Whereupon Frank told her she was very impertinent. There was little fear of these two misunderstanding each other. There is a mischievous French proverb which tells us that "le malheur n'est jamais si pres de nous qu'alors que tout nous sourit." Things were certainly _more_ smiling than usual with Eugenia Chancellor the morning that she received Sydney's cheerful acceptance of the invitation to Halswood, and was graciously told by Beauchamp in answer to her announcement of the news "that he was glad they were coming, and he hoped the weather would be fine." But misfortune--disappointment, at least, was near at hand; misfortune in the shape of a plain-looking little old lady in a shabby pony carriage, who about an hour after luncheon this same day made her appearance under the ugly portico, and learning that Mrs Chancellor was at home, alighted, and was shown into the morning-room, giving a name for announcement to the footman newly imported from town, which, taken in conjunction with her unimposing appearance, somewhat excited that gentleman's surprise.