'You never performed a greater act of virtue even in your life, Mrs. Elsmere, than when you wrote Langham that nice letter of invitation.'
And then the young rector sighed, as many a boyish memory came crowding upon him.
A sound of wheels! Robert's long legs took him to the gate in a twinkling, and he flung it open just as Rose drove up in fine style, a thin dark man beside her.
Rose lent her bright cheek to Catherine's kiss, and the two sisters walked up to the door together, while Robert and Langham loitered after them talking.
'Oh, Catherine!' said Rose under her breath, as they got into the drawing-room, with a little theatrical gesture, 'why on earth did you inflict that man and me on each other for two mortal hours?'
'Sh-sh!' said Catherine's lips, while her face gleamed with laughter.
Rose sank flushed upon a chair, her eyes glancing up with a little furtive anger in them as the two gentlemen entered the room.
'You found each other easily at Waterloo?' asked Robert.
'Mr. Langham would never have found me,' said Rose drily; 'but I pounced on him at last—just, I believe, as he was beginning to cherish the hope of an empty carriage and the solitary enjoyment of his Saturday Review.'
Langham smiled nervously. 'Miss Leyburn is too hard on a blind man,' he said, holding up his eyeglass apologetically; 'it was my eyes, not my will, that were at fault.'