They had cantered across a high-lying common, and descended into a country lane along which they walked their horses, ready for conversation again. The hedges on either side of them were pink and white with May; the golden carpet of early June was spread all over the meadows; the trees wore their dress of freshest green; larks sang in high ecstasy overhead. Grafton felt the delight of the unused untroubled country, but though it was a rest and a refreshment to him, his life was bound up with other things that took him away from it, even while he was enjoying it. Stealing a glance at his girl's much-loved face, he caught something of what it was to her to soak herself in all the happiness of nature, to wake and sleep with it, and to cast off from her the fitful life of sought-out amusements. She had flowered under it. Much as he adored his little Beatrix, and sweet and kind as she was, it came to him that Caroline's was the finer character of the two. Beatrix loved Abington too, and the quieter life they led there; but she loved it as he did, as a change and a refreshment. She would never have been content to settle down to it as Caroline had, for she had not the same resources in herself. "Do you think there's anything between Beatrix and Dick Mansergh?" he asked suddenly. She laughed at him. "I've been wondering when you were going to ask me that," she said. "Oh, then you've noticed it." "Darling old thing!" she said fondly. "It's plain enough that he's head over ears. You _must_ have seen, haven't you?" "Well, I suppose I have. But I want to know about her. _She_ isn't head over ears, is she?" "No, she certainly isn't that. It's too soon, you know, Daddy." A shadow always came over his face when that affair with Lassigny was brought to his mind. "She's not still thinking of that fellow, is she?" he asked. "I expect she thinks of him a good deal. That's why she won't think of anybody else for some time to come." He did not push his question. He knew that that danger was past, and that if Beatrix still thought of Lassigny it was not with love. That had died in her. "Poor darling!" he said tenderly. "You know how I hated it at the time. But when she was getting over it I sometimes almost wished that he had come back. I'm precious glad he didn't, though." "So am I now," said Caroline. "But it did leave a mark upon her. Should you mind, Dad, if she did want to marry Dick?" "Mind? No. Why should I mind?" he asked. "It's just the sort of marriage I should like for her. I suppose they'd be away a lot at first, but the old man is over eighty. It can't be very long before Dick succeeds. Then they'd be living at Wilborough. There's nothing I should like better." She was a little surprised at this. It had not been only his objection to the man whom Beatrix had wanted to marry that had so upset him nearly a year before.