“What are you laughing at? I don’t feel at all like laughing,” Milly said in an aggrieved tone. “We are behaving as if something had happened,” Grace said; “such nonsense! Papa has been detained, that’s all. I hope he is not getting wet out in this rain.” “Oh, I hope he is not getting wet!” Milly said, rising up hastily and running to the window. Milly had a turn for taking care of everybody’s health. She was pleased with the importance of being a little “delicate” herself. “I don’t see how he should,” said Grace with another laugh, which was somewhat forced, “when there are cabs at every step. Of course, he has not made up his mind to get wet, or to get lost, or to have an accident, solely to make us uncomfortable the very first day, like a naughty child. The dinner will be spoiled; that is all that will happen.” “As if it mattered about the dinner!” said Milly with feminine indifference, coming back from the window. The rain was not quite so heavy, and their spirits began to rise. “Here is papa’s letter-case with all the introductions. Let us look them over and imagine what sort of people they will be. First of all and foremost,” said Grace, “Lord Conway; that is _our_ Minister. He was once at our house--don’t you remember, Milly? years and years ago, when he was the Honourable Mr Something-or-other; at least I have heard mamma say so----” “Mamma would be sure to say Something-or-other. Of course he will come directly and call----” “And ask us to go and stay there,” added Grace seriously, “which would be grander than a hotel; but then one would not be so free to go out and in. I think I will advise papa not to go, or to go only for two or three days, to see how noble people live. To be sure,” she added, “if he is not married--I wonder if he is married?--he could not ask us; unless he has a mother, or sister, or something, to keep his house.” “He is sure to be married,” said Milly, “if it is so long since he was in Canada--longer than we can recollect; and a Minister too: he must be quite old!” “On the contrary, the Minister for the Colonies is often quite young, I believe,” said Grace. What she founded this opinion upon we are unable to state, but it was Grace’s peculiarity that she liked to be wiser than her neighbours. “Put Lord Conway on one side. Now there is Sir John Didcot. He is married; there is not any doubt about that. Don’t you remember _him_, Milly?--a fat man who had to do with railways. He was dreadfully rich. I should think very likely they live in the country, and would ask us for--Easter, or that sort of thing. Everybody in London goes out of town for Easter. There are several national solemnities of that kind, you know,” said Grace half satirically, half complacently. “Easter, and the Derby-day, and the 12th of August, and a few more.”