“That will be the test. Now she has Clement, I expect an article will come on the first book they read together.” Lance laughed, but returned to defend his sister. “Indeed she was attached to him. She was altogether drooping and crushed at Vale Leston in the autumn.” “It was too soon. She was overdone with the multitudes, and in fact it was more the renewal of the old sorrow than the new one. Anna tells me that when they returned there was the same objectless depression. She would not take up her painting again, she said it was of no use, there was no one to care. I remember her being asked once to do something for the Kyrle Society, and Mr. Grinstead did not like it, but now Clement’s illness has made a break, and in a new place, with him to occupy her instead of only that dawdling boy, you will see what you shall see!” “Ah! Gerald!” was the answer, in a doubtful, wistful tone, just as they arrived. CHAPTER IV. -- SLUM, SEA, OR SEASON For in spite of all her mother had taught her, She was really remarkably fond of the water. JANE TAYLOR. Mr. and Mrs. Lancelot Underwood had not long been gone to their meeting when there ran into the drawing-room a girl a year older than Anna, with a taller, better figure, but a less clear complexion, namely Emilia, the adopted child of Mr. Travis Underwood. She found Anna freshening up the flowers, and Gerald in an arm-chair reading a weekly paper. “I knew I should find you,” she cried, kissing Anna, while Gerald held out a finger or two without rising. “I thought you would not be gone primrosing.” “A perspicacity that does you credit,” said Gerald, still behind his paper. “Are the cousins gone?” asked Anna. “Of course they are; Cousin Marilda, in a bonnet like a primrose bank, is to pick up Fernan somewhere, but I told her I was too true to my principles to let wild horses drag me there.” “Let alone fat tame ones,” ejaculated Gerald. “What did she say?” asked Anna. “Oh, she opened her eyes, and said she never should ask any one to act against principles, but principles in her time were for Church and State. Is Aunt Cherry in the vortex?” “No, she is reading to Uncle Clem, or about the house somewhere. I don’t think she would go now at least.” “Uncle Grin’s memory would forbid,” muttered Gerald. “He saw a good many things, though he was a regular old-fashioned Whig, an Edinburgh Review man.” “You’ve got the ‘Censor’ there! Oh, let me see it. My respected cousins don’t think it good for little girls. What are you going to do?” “I believe the doctors want Uncle Clem to get a long leave of absence, and that we shall go to the seaside,” replied Anna. “Oh! then you will come to us for the season! We reckon on it.” “No, indeed, Emmie, I don’t see how I can. Those two are not in the least fit to go without some one.” “But then mother is reckoning on our having a season together. You lost the last.” Gerald laughed a little and hummed--