All the pride and affection of the father shone out in Dr. Davenal's face as he passed through the town, sitting by the side of his brave son, who was in Roger's place, and drove. A hundred hats were taken off; a hundred pleased faces greeted them. The doctor remained passive, save for smiles; but Captain Davenal's gay face was turned from side to side, in answer to the salutations, and he had something else to do besides attending to his horses. "Take care, Ned." "All right, sir," was the young officer's careless answer. But he escaped the wheel of a meeting carriage by only half an inch; and Roger, seated behind, said to himself that the captain had not yet grown out of his randomness. He pulled the horses up with a jerk when they arrived, leaped out, and turned to give his hand to his father. Neal had the door open, and Edward Davenal passed him with a nod and a fleet foot, for he saw his sister's face behind, bright with joyous tears. He kissed them away. "Sara, you foolish child! Keep the tears until I go again." "When will that be, Edward?" "Tomorrow evening. Hush!" he whispered, checking her startled exclamation. "Let me take my own time for telling papa. I know he will be vexed." "We thought you would stay a week at least." "I wish I could! Leave is difficult to get at all just now, on account of---- I'll tell you more later, Sara." Miss Bettina Davenal was at hand, waiting for her greeting. In the old days of his boyhood, she and he were undisguised enemies. The boy was high-spirited and rude to her, ten times worse than poor Richard: he had been the first to call her Aunt Bett, and to persist in it, in spite of her angry displeasure. He called it her still. "Well, Aunt Bett! You are looking younger than ever." "Are you quite well, Nephew Edward?" "In high feather, aunt. And mean to keep so until the wedding's over. When is yours to be, Aunt Bett?" "Tomorrow at eleven," was Aunt Bett's unconscious answer. "And right glad I shall be when it has taken place." The shout of laughter vexed Miss Davenal; she wondered what the mistake was. But the captain turned away, for Caroline was stealing towards them with conscious cheeks, and the new silver teapot in her hand. "It was unkind of you not to come before, Edward," she said. "Some of my beautiful new dresses are packed up now, and you can't see them." "I shan't die of the disappointment, Carry," was the ungallant rejoinder of the captain. "What's that you are carrying? A trophy?" "It's a teapot. It is part of Lady Oswald's present. Her's is the best of all, and I have had so many. Come and look at them: they are laid out in the garden-room." "So many teapots?" inquired the captain. "Nonsense, Edward! You know I meant presents." He drew something covertly from his pocket, and clasped it on her neck. It was a dazzling necklace. Caroline, loving ornaments excessively, was wild with delight. "O Edward! how kind you are! I never liked you as much as I do now."