"That white cloth will go to the cleaner, I suppose, after one wearing, and as for that thing on her head with lilac wistaria drooping over the brim, it can't be meant as a covering, or a protection, either from sun or wind; it's nothing but an ornament!" Miss Smeardon commented; while to herself Robinette ejaculated,-- "A penwiper, an old, much-used penwiper, is all that Miss Smeardon resembles in that black rag!" Carnaby, watching the start at the door, whistled in open admiration as Robinette came down the steps. "Well, well! we are got up to kill this afternoon; pity old Mark has just gone; but cheer up, Cousin Robin, there's always a curate on hand!" For once Robinette's ready tongue played her false, and a sense of loneliness overcame her at the sound of Lavendar's name. She gathered up her long white skirts and got into the carriage with as much dignity as she could muster, while Carnaby, his eyes twinkling with mischief, stood ready to shut the door after Miss Smeardon. "Hope you'll enjoy your drive," he jeered. "You'll need to hold on your hats. Bucephalus goes at such fiery speed that they'll be torn off your heads unless you do." "Middy dear, you're not the least amusing," said Robinette quite crossly, and with a lurch the carriage moved off. Miss Smeardon settled herself for conversation. "I'm afraid you will find me but a dull companion, Mrs. Loring," she said, glancing sideways at Robinette from under the brim of her mushroom hat. "Oh, you will be able to tell me who everyone is," said Robinette as cheerfully as she could. "I am no gossip," Miss Smeardon protested. "It isn't necessary to gossip, is it?--but I've a wholesome interest in my fellow creatures." "And it is well to know about people a little; when one comes among strangers as you do, Mrs. Loring; one can't be too careful--an American, particularly." Miss Smeardon's voice trailed off upon a note of insinuation; but Robinette took no notice of the remark. She did not seem to have anything to say, so Miss Smeardon took up another subject. "What a pity that Mr. Lavendar had to leave before this afternoon; he would have been such an addition to our party!" "Yes, wouldn't he?" Robinette agreed, though she carefully kept out of her voice the real passion of assent that was in her heart. "Mr. Lavendar is so agreeable, I always think," Miss Smeardon went on. "Everyone likes him; he almost carries his pleasant ways too far. I suppose that was how--" She paused, and added again, "Oh, but as I said, I never talk scandal!" "Do you think it's possible to be too pleasant?" Robinette remarked, stupidly enough, scarcely caring what she said.