little pleasure in the mere act of escaping and in the opportunity for consultations of their own. More than half their month in Rosmore was now over, and they had occasion for a little mutual understanding. It was a crisp morning of late October, very still, hoar frost white in all the hollows, and not yet melted into dew on the trees. Heaps of yellow leaves had come down in the night, and lay like gold at the foot of the now thin and trembling birches. The red trunks of the fir trees came out warmly in the sharpness of the atmosphere, and the big branches of the rowan berries drooped in consciousness of the approaching fall. “What luck,” said Eddy, “to get off for once without those other two, as old Rowland calls them, at our heels.” Rosamond assented briefly, but added, by way of qualification, “It is you generally who are at Marion’s heels.” “Look here, Rose,” said the brother, “you know the governor better than I do. What was his object in sending you and me here?” “To get rid of us for a month, and have no responsibility,” said Rosamond promptly. “Oh, come, that’s not reason enough for him. Did he mean me to make up to this little thing here? I suppose she’s made of money--at least the father is; but what he’ll give her for her fortune is an unknown quantity. I don’t think he is very fond of her; do you? And I say, how old is Mrs. Rowland?--something would depend on that.” “How should I know how old Mrs. Rowland is; and what would it matter if she were as old as--father himself?” “She must be near it,” said Eddy thoughtfully, “or he would not have gone after her in his young days. Of course if she has no children, don’t you see, it makes all the difference. Let’s assume that she’ll have no children: then he must leave all his money between those two, and that would not be bad. If I am to marry for money, I don’t mean to let myself go cheap.” “You would be worth so very much to any woman!” said Rosamond in high disdain. “I am worth a decent sum,” said Eddy, “which is more than you are, for as much as you think of yourself; I and the old tumble-down house, which is what silly people like you admire so much--when the Governor hops off. If this new place does him a great deal of good, as he believes it will, I shan’t have such a good chance.” “Poor father!” said Rosamond, but with perfect composure, “it is a pity to raise his hopes.” “So I think,” said Eddy: “when you’ve had _that_ before you for so long, you ought to be able to make up your mind to it. And it isn’t as if he did not have his fling in his day. However, the question is, what did he mean when he sent us here? Was it you or was it me?” “What do you mean by me?” said Rosamond with irritation; “father knows quite well what I am going to do.”