Lottie did not want him to applaud her. It was enough for her that he heard her; but it was only when he was there that she did herself full justice. And it is not to be supposed that the Signor was ignorant of the changed tone in her voice which showed when he appeared. It was too great a vexation to him to be ignored. Art, pure art, was not as yet, if it ever would be, the spring of Lottie’s life. It was “that fellow.” Her voice grew softer and more exquisite, full of pathos and meaning--her notes more liquid and sweet. If the Signor had been Rollo’s rival in reality he could scarcely have been more annoyed--he whose aspiration was to make a true artist of this creature, to whom heaven had given so glorious a medium of expression, but who as yet knew nothing about art. Thus September stole away. Never before had Ridsdale been so long at the Deanery. He gave sometimes one reason and sometimes another for his delay. It was very convenient for him, as the place was central, and he was often obliged to run up to town to see after business connected with the Opera. His company meant to open their house in spring; and the manager being in Italy, there was a great deal to do which fell upon Rollo. He had invitations without number, but he neglected them all. So long as his aunt would have him there was no place so convenient for him as the Deanery. And Lady Caroline was very willing to have him. She had always been kind to him. If her feelings had been strong enough to justify anyone in considering himself her favourite, then Rollo might have done so. She had always been kind; and a habit of kindness is as good as any other habit, and is the best pledge of continuance. And she liked in a way to have him there. He never gave her any trouble--now and then he succeeded in something that was very like amusing her. And he no longer demanded of her that she should invite Miss Despard daily, or trouble herself with the other people who sang. Two or three times only during the month did he ask for an invitation for the girl in whose voice he was so much interested. And he was very domestic--triumphantly disproving all the stories that had been told of him. He never cared to dine anywhere but at home while he was at the Deanery--he did not care for company. He was a very nice companion for the Dean at dinner, and after dinner he would stroll out and smoke a cigar. If he gave trouble at Courtland it was only, Lady Caroline thought with gentle complacency, because they did not know how to manage him; for anyone more happy to be quiet she never saw. And thus September passed; the partridges did not tempt him away, any more than the grouse had done. He did not care, he declared, about sport of any kind. Music and books, and his stroll of an evening on the Slopes to smoke his cigar--these were all the virtuous amusements Rollo desired--with these he was as happy as the day was long. And in October, Augusta, coming home from her bridal tour, was to