“Have I made a mistake, Cecil! I thought we were to go out together this afternoon!”
“Yes; but Raymond was wanted at Willansborough, and I am going to lunch at Sirenwood. I want to borrow a book.”
“Oh, very well, I’ll come, if you don’t mind. Sir Harry asked me to drop in and look at his dogs.”
This was irresistible; and Frank decided on riding the groom’s horse, and leaving him to conduct Anne to the rendezvous in the afternoon—for Charlie had been at Sandhurst for the last week—running in first to impart the change of scheme to her, as she was performing her daily task of reading to his mother.
He did so thus: “I say, Anne, Cecil wants to go to Sirenwood first to get a book, so Lee will bring you to meet us at the Beeches at 2.30.”
“Are you going to luncheon at Sirenwood?” asked Mrs. Poynsett.
“Yes; Cecil wants to go,” said the dutiful younger brother.
“I wish you would ask Cecil to come in. Raymond put himself into such a state of mind at finding me reading Madame de Sévigné, that I am afraid he carried off her books summarily, though I told him I was glad of a little space for my old favourites.”
Cecil was, however, mounted by the time Frank came out, and they cantered away together, reaching the portico of Sirenwood in about twenty minutes.
Cecil had never been in the house before, having only left her card, though she had often met the sisters. She found herself in a carpeted hall, like a supplementary sitting-room, where two gentlemen had been leaning over the wide hearth. One, a handsome benignant-looking old man, with a ruddy face and abundant white whiskers, came forward with a hearty greeting. “Ah! young Mrs. Poynsett! Delighted to see you!—Frank Charnock, you’re come in good time; we are just going down to see the puppies before luncheon. Only I’ll take Mrs. Poynsett to the ladies first. Duncombe, you don’t know Mrs. Raymond Poynsett—one must not say senior bride, but the senior’s bride. Is that right?”