"No," said Rowena brightly; "why should we? It's a lovely part of the world. Think of the woods and meadows for your pale-faced children. How many picnics we shall have this summer! And Sir Henry and his wife are always wanting us to join their social gatherings. Of course, you don't feel inclined to do so yet, but you will by and by. Ted would not like you to shut yourself up. And I think we're very lucky in our parson. I like him extremely. I have a great admiration for his eldest daughter, mothering the parish as she does, in addition to mothering her small brothers."
"Oh, Mr. Waring is all right enough! He's a gentleman and a scholar, and you and he have a good deal in common. I suppose India spoils one, and nothing will ever be the same to me without Ted—I hate a house without a man! It is like a cart without the horse, a train without an engine."
"Well, now turn your attention upon Major Cunliffe. I see him walking up the path."
A moment after, a tall handsome man was shaking hands with them both. But it was easy to see which of the women was the object of his visit.
Rowena leant back in her chair with easy friendliness. Not a blush on her cheek, or quiver of her eyelash, told that she was in the least impressed by his personality.
"We heard you were coming to the Hall," she said, looking at him with the usual twinkle in her eyes; "but we did not expect to see you quite so soon. You only arrived yesterday evening, did you not? Sir Henry called here just before he drove to the station to meet you."
"My inclination was to come round immediately after breakfast," Major Cunliffe replied promptly; "but Lady Hazelwood insisted upon inspecting her pet rock-garden, and she kept me there the greater part of the morning. I do not like people with hobbies. They ride them so hard."
"I think if a woman has no children it's a good thing to have a hobby," said Mrs. Arbuthnot, "especially in the country. The Hazelwoods are hardly ever in town. He's a born farmer. Don't you remember how he used to yarn in India about his shorthorns and pigs?"
"By Jove, yes. And we called him 'Mangels' in the mess. What a ripping little house you have here. How are the youngsters?"
"You remind me of my duties," said Mrs. Arbuthnot. "I promised to go up to them to-day when nursery tea was on. I shan't be long."