"And now the next question is, how we are to enjoy ourselves?" exclaimed Hector, while his aunt speculated upon the figures inscribed on that crumpled scrap of paper, which her fingers so itched to unfold. "In the first place we must have a carriage; and in an exploration which I made this morning before you were up, Mrs. MacClaverhouse, I discovered that the only vehicle we can have is a shabby old fly, which began life as a britzska, and a shabby old pair of horses, which, in their early days, I suspect, have been employed in the agricultural interest; but as the shabby old carriage is clean and roomy, and as I am told the clumsy old horses are good at going, and as a person in the position of that proverbial Hobson must not be fastidious, I have engaged the vehicle for the season. So now, my dearest auntie, prepare yourself for a chronic state of picnic. I have written to Fortnum and Mason to send us a cargo of picnic provisions--innumerable mahogany-coloured hams and tongues, and Strasburg pies, and potted fowl of all species, and all those wonderful preparations which taste of grease and pepper so much more than of any thing else. And I have found the most delightful nurseryman in the world, who will supply us with hothouse grapes and apricots; and the carriage will be here at twelve, so pray run away and put on your bonnet, auntie, and let Lady Cecil know all about our plans." "You like Cecil?" "Excessively. I think she is charming." Mrs. MacClaverhouse shrugged her shoulders. "You think every thing charming," she said. She was familiar with his sanguine temperament, and his faculty for seeing every thing in its sunniest aspect. "But I think Lady Cecil Chudleigh more charming than most things. I have seen very few women to compare with her, though she is by no means a showy beauty. I was struck by her profile as she sat in the sunlight yesterday. I never saw a more delicate outline, except in the face of the Empress Eugénie--and she has something of Eugenie's pensive gravity in her expression,--not pride, but the sort of thing which common-minded people mistake for pride. I think you have reason to be proud of such a niece. She ought to marry well." "I hope she will," answered the widow.