'The Vicar says there is going to be a thunder-storm,' said Lady Caergwent, in rather a solemn voice.
'The Vicar always has a thunder-storm coming whenever it isn't a fall of snow,' returned Bernard.
'Hush, Bear! Kate won't have the Vicar's name taken in vain,' laughed Angela.
'Angela! Is not that expression a rebuke to itself?' whispered Cherry.
'There's not a symptom of a cloud,' added Gertrude, 'but the heat is overpowering.'
'Yes!' said Cherry. 'Lance could hardly have gone in such scorching as this.'
'We shall find mountain-air at the top,' said Robina, 'when once we can get there.'
'And the storms there are magnificent,' added the deep voice of Clement, as he strode out in broad hat and alpaca coat, pausing to put his despatches into the letter-box, and inspect the barometer.
'Let that poor thing alone, Clem,' called out his eldest brother. 'We mean to enjoy ourselves.'
'Are you affected by thunder?' the Vicar asked, seeing that Lady Caergwent did not look very happy.