Lettice and Arthur Newcome were pacing their favourite walk, the narrow shrubbery path which encircled the lawn, and at intervals of every three or four minutes the two figures came into sight as the path opened to drive and tennis ground. Master Raymond strolled across to the first of these openings, leant nonchalantly against a tree, and waited the approach of footsteps. They came--a strong, steady crunching of the gravel, a pattering of quick, uneven little steps, and the sound of a deep bass voice struck on the ear. "...And further on, in the transept aisle, I came upon a particularly heavy and unattractive cenotaph to the memory of--" Raymond gasped, and rolled his eyes; then, as the footsteps died away, he sped lightly across the lawn, and ensconced himself at the next point of vantage. The boom of Mr Newcome's big voice came again to his ear. Poor little Lettice was evidently a good listener! "...The epitaph is in the inflated style of the period--bombastic in character, and supposed to be written by--" "Bombastic!" echoed Raymond in despair. "I know someone else to whom that epithet would apply uncommonly well. This is worse than I expected! I'll give him one more chance, and then--" But at the third hearing Mr Newcome was discoursing on "allegorical figures and pseudo- classic statues," whereupon Raymond dashed off into the house and horrified his sisters by an account of his experiences. "What a shame to listen like that! Lettice would be furious if she knew." "It was for her own good. Poor little soul! I'm sorry for her. What on earth made him choose tombstones as a topic of conversation." "I know. He has been staying in Canterbury. Lettice told me that he had written to her about the Cathedral," said Norah dolefully. "I wonder if I ought to go and join them! She asked me, and pinched my arm to make me say yes, but I thought Arthur looked as if he didn't want me. Can't we make an excuse and call her in? She looks _so_ tired." "Well, they are the funniest pair of lovers I have ever seen!" said Raymond, nodding his head with a knowing look, as if he had had an extensive knowledge of engaged couples, whereas he had never been in the house with one before. And just at that moment in marched Lettice, her fair face disfigured by a weary, irritable expression. "I think you are all very unkind! I asked you to come into the garden. It's very mean to leave me all alone, when I have only a f-f-fortnight more at home!" The last word in a burst of tears, and she ran hurriedly upstairs to her own room. What was to be the end of it all? Her sisters stared at each other with wide, frightened eyes, too miserable and uneasy to speak. CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. BEFORE THE WEDDING.