"When is Marius going to wait on Rose?" asked the elder lady. "He has been home now two days."
Susannah Chressham turned quickly.
"Rose is so occupied—since he hath gone into the Ministry, he is seldom at home."
"It isn't always service in the Ministry keeps him abroad," remarked his mother lightly.
"Marius has been to his reception, you know," said Miss Chressham, "and will call privately to-morrow."
She came slowly down the centre of the room.
"It is nearly a year since Marius came home before," she said; she seated herself near the Countess and her pink striped dress rustled against the other lady's lavender muslins; the room was all white and pale colours, flowers were painted on the walls and Cupids smiled from the ceiling; the furniture was Aubusson, finely carved and of melting hues; the candles were scented and set in crystal sconces; in one corner stood an elegant spinet, and close by Susannah's gold harp; on a tulip-wood table rested a beau-pot of forget-me-nots, the most vivid thing in the chamber.
"A year ago," repeated the Countess vaguely; "yes, just before Rose married."
"I was thinking of Lavinia," said Miss Chressham quietly; "he has not seen her since."