So they were very busy the next day, and on Thursday morning they went to Barton's and got the flowers, as many as they thought they might afford. There were a few camelias among them, and in arranging them for the table, Eugenia kept out two--a scarlet one for Sydney, a white one for herself. But at the last moment the white flower fell to pieces, which so distressed Sydney that Eugenia had difficulty in persuading her to allow her own one to remain in its nest among the plaits of her soft fair hair. "I don't care for things you don't share, Eugenia. I couldn't be happy if you weren't," she said, with more earnestness than the occasion seemed to call for. And Eugenia laughed at her and called her a little goose, and looked as if she felt little fear that happiness and she would ever be far apart. VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER FOUR. SISTERS-IN-LAW. "Prithee, say thou--the damsel hath a dowry?" "Nay, truly, not so. No diamonds hath she but those of her eyes, no pearls but those in her mouth, no gold but that hidden among her hair." _Old Play_. The morning succeeding the day on which Captain Chancellor had seen Roma off for Brighton, found her comfortably seated at breakfast with her sister-in-law in the lodgings which Mrs Eyrecourt had engaged for the month of sea air, generally by a happy coincidence, found necessary in late autumn for "the children." Their visit to Brighton was later than usual this year, having been delayed by home engagements; most of Mrs Eyrecourt's friends had left, and she was beginning to feel anxious to follow their example. "I am so glad to have you back again, Roma," she said, as she watched her sister-in-law pouring out the coffee. "It has been dreadfully dull the last week or two, and so cold. I shall be glad to be at home again. How did you manage to keep yourself alive in Cumberland?" "Lady Dervock keeps her house very warm," replied Roma. "The coldness isn't the worst part of it--it is so dreadfully dull and out-of-the way. She was very kind, as I told you, and did her best to entertain me. She invited all the neighbours she has, to come to dinner in turn, but there are not many, and they are mostly old and stupid. Still, it was gratifying in one sense. I have no objection to be considered the woman my dear godmamma delighteth to honour. It looks promising. But I couldn't live there. Ah, no," with a little shudder. "I shall certainly let Deepthorne if ever it belongs to me." Mrs Eyrecourt looked up quickly. "Lady Dervock may put a clause in her will obliging you to do so," she said. "I have heard of such things. But, seriously, Roma, I do hope you are not allowing yourself to count upon anything of that kind? It would be very foolish." "Count upon it!" repeated Roma, with an air of the utmost superiority to any such folly. "Certainly not, my dear Gertrude. I never count upon anything. I amuse myself by a little harmless speculation upon possibilities; that's all, I assure you."