"You seem very much in love with Wally, as you call him." "Of course I am, papa. Have not you yourself agreed that some day we are to be married?" "I suppose you won't care how soon that 'some day' comes?" "Indeed, then, I don't want it to come, oh, for ever so long! As if I were in a hurry to leave you and mamma! It is most unkind of you even to hint at such a thing, and I have a great mind to sulk with you for the rest of the day." "Such a threat is enough to make any one shake in his shoes. Do you know, _petite_, of what I have been thinking?" "How should I, papa?" "Why, now Walter and my old friend Winslow are both here, that we will try for a little while--say, for the next few weeks--to be as jolly as sandboys. Yes, we will be gay, we will be dissipated even (fancy poor mamma being dissipated, eh?), and our mottoes shall be 'Away with melancholy' and '_Vive la bagatelle!_'" "That will be awfully nice." "Awfully. Tomorrow, if the weather hold fine, we will drive as far as Beauchamp Chase and picnic there. Then mamma and you must arrange for a garden party, and possibly we may be able to get up a dance or two--and I know not what other frivolities." To himself he said: "What a mockery is all this!" "You darling papa! How happy we shall be! But come along, do, or mamma will say that you are making me as bad as yourself." CHAPTER IX. WAITING FOR THE VERDICT. It was three weeks later, and the day of Gumley's trial. In the same pleasant room, with its French windows opening on the lawn, already known to us, Mrs. Drelincourt was reclining on a lounge, engaged in some kind of fine needlework. On a small occasional table within reach of her hand lay an open telegram. She was alone, and had been so for some time, but she did not on that account think herself neglected. Indeed, she was one of those women, few and far between, who love solitude for its own sake, and can taste to the full its subtle charm. Before long her reverie was broken by the entrance of Colonel Winslow. "It's close upon three o'clock, and yet Felix has not returned," he said. "It is not often that he prolongs his ride so far into the afternoon." "Very seldom indeed. I was becoming rather anxious about him when this came to hand." As she spoke, she handed him the telegram. The colonel took it and read it aloud: "'Drelincourt, Greystone Priors, to Mrs. Drelincourt, Fairlawn.--Selim has fallen lame. Shall leave him here, to be fetched by groom tomorrow, and return by train.' That fully accounts for his non-arrival," added the colonel, as he replaced the telegram on the table, and drew up a chair. "You have heard nothing yet, I presume, as to how Gumley's trial is progressing?" "Nothing whatever. Roden Marsh is in attendance at the sessions house, and will bring us the news at the earliest possible moment." "I am afraid the result is a foregone conclusion," remarked the colonel. The subject was one Mrs. Drelincourt did not care to pursue.