“Now, Mr. Brookes, now Mr. Brookes, I must beg of you--calm yourself. What would my guests think if they found you in tears? What would they think I had been saying to reduce you to such a condition? It is veryunfortunate that Sally and Maggie should act as they do, particularly at my place; but really you must not give way.” “Since the death of their poor mother I am all alone. My position is a very trying one.” Then, with a sudden burst of laughter, “However, I suppose it will be all the same a hundred years hence!” X The girls walked to the station with Escott. A fleecy evening, with the clouds growing pale towards the sea, the sun like fire in the elms, and the woods showing upon a purple tinge. “How delightful!” exclaimed Frank. “How charming this is--this old English green, the horse pond at one end, the various houses, the inn, the grocery business, the linen drying in that yard, the smith, and the wheelwright. I don't like that modern Queen Anne school-house, and I wish I could remove the dead level of the embankment and see the sea. The green is better from this side with the view of the Downs--those lines waving against the sky, where the gorse grows and the sheep feed, and inclining to the road all the fields pale green and deep green. But what game are those men playing--what game do you call that?” “Bat and trap.” “I have passed the green twenty times before, and I never really saw it till now. It is charming--so thoroughly English. I should like to live here for a month--for two months. How nice it would be to breakfast in the morning looking out on the green, to see the cocks and hens and all the children and all this English life! How different from Pump Court! I am sick of Pump Court--dirt and smoke, a horrid servant, stale eggs. I suppose you can always get fresh eggs and new bread here? I would give anything to spend a month on the green.” “Well, you can!” cried Sally. “I wish you would, and you could come and play tennis with us every afternoon. Mrs. Heald has some rooms to let; why it was only last week I heard that she hadn't let her rooms this season, and was most anxious to do so.” “There's no use my coming here until I begin to write my novel. I am painting now, and I must see if I can get my picture finished for one of the autumn exhibitions.” “I knew you would find some excuse.” “No, I assure you, but I can't do anything without a studio, and I'm not likely to find a studio on Southwick Green.” “I don't suppose Mrs. Heald has a room large enough for a studio,” said Maggie; “but I don't see why you shouldn't find a place where you can paint.” “Where? Not in that eighteenth-century house where the two old ladies are standing! Supposing I were to go and ask them if they would let me have their drawing-room to paint in! That is the only house on the green, all the rest are cottages.”