“Yes, North is a steady good boy, and deserves a nice wife; but I should never have guessed that he would marry into the county, as people call it. That always seemed more in Cyril’s line.” Sheila laughed. She had seen through Cyril’s veneer long ago, and thought much more of North’s sterling worth and perfect sincerity and simplicity. It was these qualities which had attracted May, and Sheila thought she showed her sense and good feeling in being so quick to appreciate them. May received her with open arms; and in a short time they were ensconced in one of their favourite retreats, pouring girlish confidences into each other’s ears. May told of her approaching marriage, which was to take place in September, so that they would get a run on the continent a little later than the August rush, and yet be settled at home comfortably for the winter. “You must come and see the house to-morrow,” cried May. “It is such a dear old place; not big, you know, but quite old-fashioned; and such a quaint old walled garden that shuts us out from the world. It is away from other houses now, close to the village of Twick; but as North says, Isingford is creeping out that way, and it won’t be country many more years; but our walls will keep us secluded, and inside it is all quite delightful. We have two acres altogether, and it is so well planted and laid out that you would think it was much more.” Sheila was keenly interested in her friend’s prospects; and time slipped away fast. The softened light told of a westering sun, and May suddenly sprang up crying— “I am sure it must be tea-time and past. Come along, Sheila. You must be introduced to our other guests!” They threaded the garden paths, crossed the blazing lawns, towards the group of stately cedars beneath which several persons were seated. Sheila could not see their faces distinctly through the sweeping boughs; but suddenly somebody rose and made a few forward steps, uttering a pleased little exclamation, whilst the girl gave a joyful cry and sprang forward. “Miss Adene! Oof—how delightful! Oh, May, why did you not say that Miss Adene was here?” The meeting was a warm one on both sides. Sheila’s glance swept round the little group, but there was no other familiar face, except that of the hostess. She was introduced to the other guests; but was quickly seated beside Miss Adene asking questions in her eager way, and telling of herself in turn. “Yes, we think that Guy is quite recovered now,” said Miss Adene. “He is wonderfully better, even since you saw him. We went to Oratava for a little while, and then when it grew too hot there we returned to Madeira; and before we left he seemed as strong as ever, and has not lost a bit of ground since he got home. He begins to ride and drive, and walk about just as he did before his illness. Ronald declares that he will soon be quite a superfluity at the Priory. Guy is able to take everything into his own hands again.”