A smart post-chaise, seen from afar, coming swiftly onwards, contained Melville and Gratian. They had slept at an hotel in Clifton on the previous night, and came in the style which befitted them.
Joyce was a little alarmed at the large amount of boxes on the roof, and wondered if they could by any means be carried upstairs.
Gratian, handsome and gay as ever, gave all the orders and settled with the post-boy, while Melville looked on.
It was one of those cases when it is expedient, perhaps, that the wife should take the lead, from the incapacity of the husband to manage himself or his affairs, but it has never a pleasing effect on those who look on, and Gilbert thought how well it was there were no children to hear Gratian's ringing tones ordering Melville to 'wake up' and carry two small packages into the hall.
"Where is Ralph?" Joyce asked.
"He took some qualm about leaving Fair Acres. Mr. Watson is ill—dying, they say—so Ralph said he did not want to leave the place; there are still many bad characters about."
"I am sorry to miss Ralph, and mother will be disappointed, especially as Harry has joined his ship."
"What a nice room," Gratian said, as they went upstairs; "but I hope you have a hanging-closet."
"I am afraid only pegs," Joyce said; "but there is a tiny dressing-room."
"Is Mrs. Arundel coming to this family gathering?"