14, laughing noisily--more noisily than ladies of their stamp often laugh when no one of the male sex is present to stir their spirits up to boiling point. Their dresses, as they stood there in the bright sunshine of a May afternoon, were of the kind better suited to a wedding breakfast than to a “quiet dinner,” as Fred Norcott had described it, in the country. Light and fair and frolicsome they looked; women with more _auburn_ frizzled hair about their heads than could, by the most lively and charitable imagination, have been supposed to be their own, with bright pink roses mingling with their hirsute ornaments, and with a _quantum suff._ of _poudre de riz_ softening the lustre of their complexions. “How smart they are!” Honor whispered in dismay to Arthur, as the two caught a glimpse of the lively sisters from behind the muslin curtain of the first-front drawing-room. “Awfully. It’s a bore they’re coming, but if there had been nobody it would have been worse,” said Arthur, leaning over her chair, and speaking in the low tones which always went so thrillingly to her heart. “Imagine! I _might_ have been unable, all this evening, to say one word alone to you. And we have so few more days, Honor! You say that you cannot expect a much longer holiday; but tell me--do you never, never think what will become of me when you are gone?” “Don’t talk in that way,” she said, one of her crimson blushes speaking far more eloquently than her words, while she tried to hide her confusion by carefully drawing on finger after finger of her delicate Paris gloves. “Don’t talk in that way; I must talk to these people now. You don’t know them, of course?” And rising gracefully, she went through the ceremony of introduction which her father deemed it necessary to perform. The next arrivals (they dashed up to the door in a hansom, and remained talking up to the balcony during the few minutes that elapsed before the descent of the major portion of the party) were Mr. Foley, and a young gentleman of slightly _horsey_ appearance, but who, nevertheless, contrived to snip his words and lisp as ridiculously as any foolish would-be fine gentleman in town. Captain Bowles was the son of a general officer, and was himself, though of small dimensions, and of anything but military bearing, a soldier. He was plain of feature, with a large mouth and a beardless face. His appearance was more that of an inferior order of counter-jumper than of a guardsman; nevertheless he was petted and made much of, especially by the fair sex. Mrs. Foley and her sister were “fine women,” and “fast,” so the general’s son--who would have been voted, under less favourable circumstances, a little snob--was allowed to stand up before them with his hands in his trousers pockets like a man; and while he minced his platitudes with graceful ease, was smiled on as fondly as though he were a hero and a gentleman.