“Are there any drawings of the Reynolds’ boy?”
“Yes, Lenore Vivian brought them down, and very good they are. Every one says he has the making of a genius, but he does not look as if it agreed with him; he is grown tall, and thin, and white, and I should not wonder if those good-for-nothing servants bullied him.”
“Did you see anything of Eleonora?”
“Nothing so impossible. I meet her every day, but she is always beset with the Strangeways, and I think she avoids me.”
“I can hardly think so.”
“I don’t like it! That man is always hanging about Sirenwood, and Lenore never stirs an inch without one of those girls. I wish Frank could see for himself, poor fellow.”
“He does hope to run down next week. I have just heard from him in high spirits. One of his seniors has come into some property, another is out of health and retires, so there is some promotion in view.”
“I wish it would make haste then. I don’t like the look of things.”
“I can hardly disbelieve in the dear girl herself; yet I do feel as if it were against nature for it to succeed. Did you hear anything of Mrs. Bowater to-day?”
“Yes, she is much better, and Edith is coming to go into the gallery with me on Tuesday when they inaugurate the Rat-house. Oh! did you hear of the debate about it? You know there’s to be a procession—all the Volunteers, and all the Odd Fellows, and all the Good Templars, and all the school-children of all denominations—whatever can walk behind a flag. Our choir boys grew emulous, and asked Herbert to ask the Rector to let them have our lovely banner with the lilies on it; but he declined, though there’s no choice but to give the holiday that will be taken.”