Frank would not commit himself, but he was evidently at the era of sensitiveness on the poetical side. Cecil spoke for him. “How very provoking! What did you do to him, Rosamond?”
“I kept off the sand-flies! I can’t say but I was glad of a little rest, for I had been packing up for the whole family for ten days past, with interludes of rushing out into the town; for whatever we had not forgotten, the shops had not sent home! Oh! what a paradise of quiet it was under the rocks at Filey—wasn’t it, Julius?”
“We will go there again next time we have a chance,” said Julius, looking blissful.
“I would never go again to the same place,” cried Cecil. “That’s not the way to acquire new ideas.”
“We are too old to acquire new ideas, my dear,” drawled Rosamond, sleepily.
“What did you go to the Church Congress for!” asked Charlie.
“I hope Julius was awake by that time,” said Frank.
“Not if we are to have all the new ideas tried on us,” said Raymond, dryly.
“I went to a Congress once!” exclaimed Cecil.
“Indeed!” said her husband, surprised.