Reginald and Pumpkin walked over to the Grange, but Mrs. Larcher was driven over in state by Dick Pemberton, who drove at such a speed that he nearly rattled the vicar's wife into hysterics. Consequently on arriving at her destination, Mrs. Larcher was severely under the sway of "The Affliction" and had to be at once comforted with strong tea. Cecilia had also been invited, and arrived at the Grange under the guardianship of Miss Busky, who bounced the blind girl so rapidly along the road that she entered the Park in a state of exhaustion. The party all assembled in Una's private room, where they were shortly afterwards joined by bluff Dr. Larcher and Beaumont. Jellicks, having wriggled in with the tea-cake and muffins, was dismissed altogether, as Mrs. Larcher, under the influence of "The Affliction," declared the old woman made her feel creepy. "She's so twisty, my dear," she observed to Una, "like a sea-serpent you know--even the vicar has noticed her." "_Qui siccis oculis monstra natantia_," roared the vicar, quoting from his favourite poet, "though to be sure, I speak of her in the singular." "Of course," said Dick slily, "she's singular in any case:" "So very odd," giggled Miss Cassy, who was making the tea, "I don't mean Jellicks, but what you say--puns you know--like what's his name, Byron, had in his burlesques--not the Don Juan one you know, but the other--so odd, wasn't he?" "Not half so odd as Miss Cassy," whispered Dick to Reginald, but the latter young gentleman, being engaged with Una, did not reply. "I don't know if I ought to eat muffins," said Mrs. Larcher darkly, as Miss Busky bounced up to her with a plate of those edibles. "So very buttery--make me bilious--I've been bilious often, have I not Eleanora Gwendoline?" "Yes, often, Mama," assented the obedient Pumpkin. "I hope you're better now?" observed Beaumont politely, seeing the lady's eyes fixed upon him. "Ah, yes, now," sighed Mrs. Larcher, stirring her tea, "but will it last? the question is will it endure? my affliction is so capricious--I'm very weak--quite a Hindoo." "Why a Hindoo, my dear?" asked the vicar, rather puzzled. "Because they are weak--die if you look at them," explained Mrs. Larcher, "rice of course--they live on it and there's no nourishment in it." "By the way, Miss Challoner, how is the Squire?" asked Beaumont, who was leaning up against the mantelpiece looking rather bored. "He's not at all strong," replied Miss Cassy, taking the remark to herself, "quite like a candle you know--so odd--might go out at any moment--but Dr. Nestley is doing him good; but I don't think the dear doctor is well himself." Beaumont smiled slightly at this, guessing the cause of the doctor's illness, and glancing at Cecilia, saw the blind girl was trembling violently. "I hope he is not very ill," she said in her low, clear voice.