"I thought I should have died of it," said Rosamond, entering. "His face grew red enough to set his surplice on fire, and Mr. Bindon glared at him, and he missed his verse in the Psalm; for there was the bull terrier, crouching and looking abject at the vestry-door, just restrained by his eye from coming further." "What shall you do about it, Julius?" asked his mother, much amused. "Oh, that will remedy itself. All dogs learn to understand the bell." And then the others began to drop in, and were told of the invitation that was coming. "I say, Rosamond," cried Charlie, "can brothers and sisters-in-law dance together?" "That depends on how the brothers-in-law dance," returned Rosamond. "Some one, for pity's sake, play a waltz!--Come along Charlie! the hall is a sweet place for it!--Whistle, Julius!--Frank, whistle!" And away she whirled. Frank, holding out his hands, was to his surprise accepted by Cecil, and disappeared with her into the hall. Julius stood by the mantelpiece, with the first shadow on his brow his mother had seen since his arrival. Presently he spoke in a defensive apologetic tone: "She has always been used to this style of thing." "Most naturally," said the mother. "Not that they ever did more than their position required, and Lady Rathforlane is a truly careful mother. Of course some things might startle you stay-at-home people; but in all essentials--" "I see what you mean." "And what seems like rattle is habit." "Simple gaiete de coeur!" "So it is better to acquiesce till it subsides of itself. You see it is hard, after such a life of change and variety, to settle down into a country parsonage." "What are you saying there?" said Rosamond, tripping in out of breath. "That I don't know how you are to put up with a pink-eyed parson, and a hum-drum life," said Julius, holding out a caressing hand. "Now that's hard," pleaded she; "only because I took a frolic with Baby Charles! I say, Julius, shall we give it up altogether and stay at home like good children? I believe that is what would suit the told Rabbit much better than his kid gloves,"--and her sweet face looked up at him with a meek candid gaze. "No," he said, "that would not do. The Bowaters are our oldest friends. But, Rosie, as you _are_ a clergyman's wife, could you not give up round dances?" "Oh no, no! That's too bad. I'd rather never go to a dance at all, than sit still, or be elbowed about in the square dances. You never told me you expected that!"--and her tones were of a child petulant at injustice. "Suppose," he said, as a delightful solution, "you only gratified Frank and Charlie by waltzing with them." She burst into a ringing laugh. "My brothers-in-law! How very ridiculous! Suppose you included the curates?" "You know what I mean," he said gravely. "Oh, bother the parson's wife! Haven't I seen them figuring away by scores? Did we ever have a regimental ball that they were not the keenest after?"