"Mary Prance to Mrs. Darling.
"Please come back as quick as you can. I don't like her symptoms. I am afraid of something that I had better not write down here."
"Is it to go, sir?" asked the clerk.
"Oh yes, it is to go. Thank you. It's all right. I had a reason for wishing to see it."
He walked back to the house; not quickly, as Prance was doing, but slowly and reflectively. Sufficient food for reflection he had, in truth. They had not gone in to dinner; and Georgina Beauclerc, her beautiful grey eyes sparkling with excitement, crossed the lawn to meet him, wearing a blue silk evening dress, and pearls in her hair.
"Oh, Frederick, guess the news! It has come to me only now. I won't tell it you unless you guess it."
He took both her hands in his, and gazed steadfastly into her excited face. The blushes began to rise.
"News--and I am to guess it? Perhaps it is that you are going to be a sober girl."
She laughed, and would have drawn her hands away. But he held them still.
"I can't wait: I must tell you. Papa and mamma are on their way home. They will be at the Rectory tomorrow night."