‘How delightful it is,’ she remarked as we passed through the Headless Cross wood, ‘to meet a man who knows something of the outer world! O the stupidity of our country gentlemen, whose noblest aspiration is to dine well; whose noblest possibility is to hide the mark of the ploughman and the lout! How definitely you refresh me, Rafe! Your presence here has already done me a world of good. If you only knew how stagnant--how wearisome life is! Bah! but you don’t sympathise!’ This last observation was made because I had not replied, but to tell the truth I did not wish my voice to break the musical echo hers had left in my ears. I expressed a hope that she would not regard me as laconic, but rather as overwhelmed by the gladness of reunion. Whilst I spoke the turrets of Furnivaux, just touched by the purple rays of the setting sun, gleamed above a cluster of gnarled elms. The mists from the sloping woods had ascended to the parapet of the roof and given it the aspect of a terrace in the clouds. A gaily-coloured flag fluttered in the Giant’s Tower, and I could distinctly see the crest wrought in flagrant contradiction to the laws of blazonry. ‘’Twas I who did it,’ Rachel said, ‘in your honour. Mary wanted to embroider the pelican, but it was all my own idea, and I would not let her. However, she prevailed on me concerning the motto--see--you can just catch a glimpse of her _Nourrit par son sang_, in azure letters.’ The carriage stopped in front of the portico, and Stephen opened the door. My cousin laid her hand on my arm, and we entered the great hall together. As I paused to look up at the domed roof, with its pargeting of wyverns and cockleshells, a feeling of chilliness made me shiver. ‘My dear Rafe,’ Rachel said, ‘the change of climate tries you. Had I imagined that the place would be so cold I would have ordered a fire to be lighted. This is the way to the dining-room. I wonder where my sister is;--ah, you are there, Mary.’ One dressed in the plainest of white muslins stood in an open doorway. She shrank visibly at the sight of my outstretched hand, and it was only by an effort that she placed her own in it; to lie there for too brief a space. Her figure was slight and insignificant, and she had not a feature worthy of comparison with her brilliant sister’s. Rachel had taken away all the awkwardness of my involuntary visit; Mary had forced it back again, and I mentally accused her of inhospitality. Rachel, seeing that I was hurt, turned with the intention of diverting my thoughts. ‘Pray do not change your clothes this evening,’ she said. ‘We are very unconventional here, and it is nearly dinner-time. I will show you the state bedroom--it is at your disposal.’