"No, not all," said Mr. Grampound; "he was always doing his best to make things turn up."
Mrs. Grampound remarked that things were always turning up when you expected them least, and Percy hoped that his gun would turn up, because no one could remember where it was.
The evening was so warm that Eva and her mother sat outside on the terrace after dinner, waiting for the others to join them. Mr. Grampound never sat long over his wine, and in a few minutes the gentlemen followed them. Eva was rather restless, and strolled a little way down the gravel path, and, on turning, found that her father had left the others and was walking toward her.
"Come as far as the bottom of the lawn, Eva," he said; "I should like a little talk with you."
They went on in silence for some steps, and then her father said,—
"I heard from Lord Hayes to-day. Your mother told me that you could guess what it was about."
She picked up a tennis-ball that was lying on the edge of the grass.
"How wet it is!" she said. "Yes, I suppose I know what he wrote about."
"Your mother and I, naturally, have your happiness very much at heart," said he, "and we both agree that this is a very sure and clear chance of happiness for you. It is a great match, Eva."