"It is very absurd of me to feel as if Miss Laurence could not be engaged without its having been formally announced to me," she began. "I only saw her a few times, but I think she impressed me unusually. She is so _very_ pretty, so--I don't know what to call it--like a bunch of wild flowers; a perfect embodiment of brightness and _young_-ness, and everything sweet and fresh and--ingenuous;" the last word came with a little halt. It was not lost on her companion; not a tone or a look of Miss Eyrecourt's but had been noted by him with breathless acuteness since Eugenia Laurence had become the subject of their conversation. But he refrained just yet from explaining her mistake to her. "It is rather curious that Mrs Dalrymple, my cousin, where I was staying--you know her, no doubt, she is a friend of the Laurence's--did not tell me of it, is it not?" "I am not at all sure that she knows of the engagement as a fact," Mr Thurston replied, quietly. "It has been a sort of taken-for-granted thing among ourselves, but they were both so young, that it was agreed it should not be formally recognised for some time. Indeed, my return home is to be the signal for its actual announcement, as I stand _in loco parentis_ to my brother, though not very many years his senior. It is no _secret_, though," with a smile, "most likely I should not have mentioned it had this been Wareborough instead of Brighton. But I fancied you must have thought my manner odd when the Laurences were mentioned. I must set you right on one point, however. From what you say of her I see you think it is the elder Miss Laurence I mean. It is not Eugenia, who is engaged to my brother, but the younger one--Sydney." "Sydney, a younger sister? Oh yes, I remember; but I never happened to see her. She was away from home nearly all the week I was there. But, dear me, she must be a perfect child. Eugenia doesn't look eighteen," exclaimed Miss Eyrecourt. "Sydney is almost that. Eugenia has always looked younger than her age. It was by that I recognised her--in your description, I mean." He spoke rather confusedly, and his own slight embarrassment prevented his noticing the curious mingling of expressions on his companion's face. She did not know if she was glad or sorry to find herself mistaken. "So I may reinstate Eugenia in my good opinion, and fall in love with her again if I choose," she reflected. "And Beauchamp may do so too, unfortunately, without clashing with the curate; but I am not by any means sure that it would not be clashing with the curate's brother."