Sir Reginald accompanied the ladies, and spent a considerable time in looking over photographs and talking to Miss Saville, Alice having betaken herself to a distant arm-chair and Mary to the piano. After she had played for some time, she went over to Alice, and in an audible whisper said, as she stooped to arrange a tumbled chair-back: “Come now, it is your turn; come and sing those two new songs you got last week.” “No, not to-night, Molly,” she replied, shaking her head very decidedly. “Do not ask me, I could not sing a note!” In the same way when Miss Saville challenged her to their usual game of backgammon, as at night the old lady’s eyes were too weak for working or reading. “Not to-night, please, auntie,” she said plaintively, “I really feel too stupid.” “If you will accept me instead, Miss Saville, I will play with pleasure; but I am afraid you will find me a most contemptible foe,” remarked Sir Reginald, as he arranged the board all wrong. The old lady accepted his offer with the greatest alacrity, and they commenced to play without further delay. Mary felt actually _ashamed_ of Alice, who, at some distance from her relatives, lay back in her chair composedly knitting, pausing now and then to count the stitches, and then resuming her occupation as if her bread depended on it. “Was this the way to welcome a husband? No wonder they did not ‘get on’ if Alice conducted herself in this fashion.” As to her husband, as far as Mary could judge, there was nothing outwardly amiss with his manners or appearance. She took the opportunity of studying him whilst he was busily puzzling his brains over the backgammon board. About his good looks there could be but one opinion; but did not a certain curve of the nostrils speak of pride? Was not firmness almost too weak a word to convey the expression of his mouth and chin? Would not a man with less patrician beauty and a more yielding disposition be better calculated to make a woman happy? As she thought all this with a contemplative gaze, she suddenly found a pair of dark eyes fixed on herself with evident interest and amusement. “Am I so fortunate as to remind you of anyone, Miss Ferrars?” “No,” she replied hastily. “Please excuse my rudeness, I had no idea that I was staring so hard; but you must remember that you are actually the first Victoria Cross I have ever seen; and pardon me.” “Surely you did not expect to see anything unusual in my appearance on that account?” he asked with a smile. “I daresay you have seen many as deserving of the distinction, if not more so. It is all a matter of luck.” “Is that the way you speak of your honours?” said Miss Saville, pouncing down remorselessly on a blot. “I have no doubt you are very proud of the cross all the same, and that you earned it _well_,” she added with conviction.