"I did not know. I never thought of him at all until I knew he was to inherit the Park. Do you think he will come here this autumn?"
"I hope so. Last year he was abroad, and we saw nothing of him; but now he has come home I am sure he will renew his visits. He is a great favorite of mine; I think you, too, will like him."
"Don't be too sanguine," says Lilian; "just now I regard him as a usurper; I feel as though he had stolen my Park."
"Marry him," says Cyril, "and get it back again. Some more tea, Miss—Lilian?"
"If you please—Cyril,"—with a light laugh. "You see, it comes easier to me than to you, after all."
"Place aux dames! I felt some embarrassment about commencing. In the future I shall put my mauvaise honte in my pocket, and regard you as something I have always longed for,—that is, a sister."
"Very well, and you must be very good to me," says Lilian, "because never having had one, I have a very exalted idea of what a brother should be."
"How shall you amuse yourself all the morning, child?" asks Lady Chetwoode. "I fear you're beginning by thinking us stupid."
"Don't trouble about me," says Lilian. "If I may, I should like to go out and take a run round the gardens alone. I can always make acquaintance with places quicker if left to find them out for myself."
When breakfast is over, and they have all turned their backs with gross ingratitude upon the morning-room, she dons her hat and sallies forth bent on discovery.