“I wish he would. It would be a sign of life. What a pity it is,” she went on, tying the “cat-bow” reflectively, “that we can’t have five or six husbands, isn’t it, Cis? Oh, I don’t mean all at once, but one after the other, as the old ones get bored.” “Do you scatter these views broadcast, may I ask?” Cecily observed, looking up from her chair near the dressing-table. “They’re not views exactly,” returned Diana, airily. “They’re facts. The old ones _do_ get bored, don’t they? I’ve noticed that no husband goes on being a turtle-dove very long. Gets tired of the same dove, I suppose.” “Our marriage laws make no provision for a change of doves, you see.” “Oh, I know,” said Diana, cheerfully. “Men made them, so they’re sure to be silly. I wish you’d think of another way of doing my hair, Cis. I look like ‘Cheerful Caroline, or Good Temper Rewarded,’ with this imbecile bow. Aren’t you awfully dull all day, Cis, with Robert away at that stupid old British Museum?” The question, which followed hard on her foregoing remarks, was called forth involuntarily as she glanced at her sister. “He’s not going any more. He’s finished all the research part for his novel, and now he’s going to work at home.” “Perhaps it’s researching that’s made him so deadly dull lately,” observed Diana, with her habitual candor. “On the contrary, it has been very interesting work,” Cecily returned, with an unmoved expression. “Who’s the girl who’s coming to stay in the village?” Diana went on, as she fastened her simple white china silk blouse. “What’s her name? Philippa? Edward III, thirteen something or other, married Philippa of some place; she sounds like a history-book.” “She _is_ rather like a history-book, now you mention it,” returned Cecily, half smiling. “Contemporary history. I used to go to school with her. Robert met her the other day in town.” “Oh, well, if she’s like a history-book she’ll get on with Robert. And then you and I and Dick can play together and have a good time. _Do_ put on a nice frock, Cis, and make yourself look pretty. Your frocks aren’t half so nice as they used to be, and I think you ought to go away to the seaside or somewhere. It does one such a lot of good. _I_ looked awful till I went to Folkestone this year. And now see how brown I am!” Cecily rose. Taking Diana’s head between her hands, she kissed her babyish forehead with a laugh. “I must go and change,” she said. “They’ll be here in a minute. They were to meet at Waterloo and come down together.”