"Is Cecil attracted? I fancied she was." "Yes, a good deal; and I fear the Wil'sbro' business will throw them together. It is unlucky on Frank's account likewise. I see we shall have it all over again there." "I have great hope in his office taking him away. How was it with them to-night?" "What I should call arrant coquetry, such as even Camilla never indulged in. The girl kept out of his way--was absolutely chill and repelling half the evening--throwing herself at the officers from Backsworth, till at last Frank obtained a waltz, and after that they were perfectly inseparable." "If she coquets, she will soon disgust him! Did Cecil enjoy herself?" "Oh yes: Phil Bowater opened the ball with her, and she dances very nicely--so quietly, Mrs. Bowater remarked it. As to Rosamond, she was in her native element--_is_ indeed, for she would not hear of coming away when we did." "And Julius?" "Standing in a doorway, with others of his kind, absently talking, and watching Rosamond out of the tail of his eye. I say, mother," lowering his voice, "can't you give Rosamond a hint about her dress? Cecil says she can't go out with her again like _that_. Ah," as he heard a sigh, "I should not have worried you at night." "No, you have not. Tell Cecil I will see about it. Rosamond will take it best from an old woman like me." Mrs. Poynsett was quite conscious that Cecil had more high breeding and refinement than Rosamond, who was essentially the Irish Colonel's daughter, and that the cold temperament of the one irritated the warm nature of the other. More than one flash had revealed Rosamond's contempt for Cecil's assumptions and intolerance for her precision--besides, she was five years older, and had not an ideal in Dunstone. After revolving what form of remonstrance would be least offensive during half the night and day, Mrs. Poynsett was not prepared for the appearance, about noon, of her son Julius, when, coming to what she termed the confidential side of her couch, he asked hesitatingly, and colouring, "Mother, I want you to tell me, was there anything amiss in Rose's dress last night?" "You did not perceive--" "I'm not used to the style of thing. Is it not the way with what you call full dress?" "To a certain degree--" she began. He caught her up. "And here has Cecil been putting my poor Rose into a perfect agony! It is only woman's censorious nonsense, isn't it, mother? Mere folly to think otherwise! I knew you would set my mind at rest; and if you would tell Cecil that you will not have Rosamond insulted, it would be as well." "Stay, Julius," as he was walking off complacently, "I grieve, but I must confess that I was going to speak to Rosamond myself." He looked very blank. "Mind, I am certain that it is only an innocent following of what she has been brought up to;" and as he signed a sort of hurt acquiescence, as if trying to swallow the offence, she added, "When do you go out again?"