"And that women are angels?" questioned Anthony, bending to see her pretty face. "We leave that for the men to say," returned Clarice, dryly. "This man says it--of you." "This man does not talk sense." "Nor does he intend to. I have had enough of sense for the day, my dearest. Sensible conversation invariably means worry. Let us enjoy our golden hour, without transmuting it into dull lead." Miss Baird, who was feminine after all, and very much in love and young in years and spirits, thought that this was an excellent idea, so the rest of the drive was all that could be desired in the way of cheap and genuine happiness. When it ended, she gave Anthony Russian tea in a tumbler and dainty caviare sandwiches. Ferdy, as they learned from Mrs. Rebson, had returned from the railway station to enjoy his golden hour at the vicarage, and Mr. Horran had again fallen asleep. But simple happiness over afternoon tea could not last for ever, and when Anthony set out for Gattlinsands, after a lingering farewell, Clarice felt the reaction. To prevent herself from feeling dull, it was necessary that she should do something, so true to her intention of defying Dr. Jerce, she tapped at the door of the sick-room. Chalks appeared, with a whispered communication that the patient was awake and too fractious to see anyone on that night. Clarice returned to the drawing-room, and read indolently until Wentworth came to pay a late visit at eight o'clock. Just as she descended the stairs, dressed for dinner, Miss Baird caught the young physician at the door, and accosted him at once. "Is Uncle Henry better, doctor?" she asked, coming forward. Wentworth was a slim, shy man, who wore spectacles, and spoke in a jerky, staccato manner when addressed by a woman. "Better--yes--that is,--more awake. Lethargy passed away--very bad temper. Better leave him alone until the morning. 'Night, Miss Baird," and he shot off in confusion, like a timid schoolboy. Clarice made a hurried meal, and returned drearily to the empty drawing-room, without any desire to encounter the fractiousness of her guardian, which she had experienced on more than one occasion. After the somewhat exciting day she really felt worn-out and in need of rest, therefore made up her mind to retire comparatively early. However, she hoped that Ferdy would come home soon to explain his absence from the dinner table, and passed the time in playing Patience until ten o'clock. Finally, after asking Mrs. Rebson if the house was locked up, and if Ferdy had returned--which he had not--she ascended the stairs to bed. At the top of them she found Ferdy clinging to the banisters. Apparently he had entered the house without Mrs. Rebson's knowledge. "Oh!" said Clarice, perceiving his condition. "Again."