'Oh well, I will. I may, mayn't I, Jass?' said Frances, her eyes sparkling with pleasure, only damped by Jacinth's grave expression. Did Jass think she was chattering too much already? High spirits were Francie's native air: it was very difficult for her to be quiet and subdued for long together. But Jacinth really loved to see Frances happy, and she knew that Lady Myrtle would feel the same.
'She thinks her such a mere child,' thought the elder girl. So she smiled reassuringly as she replied: 'Of course, dear, you can ask Lady Myrtle. I am sure she won't mind if it keeps fine; and there is no sign of rain, is there?' she said turning to the coachman.
'No indeed, ma'am,' he replied. 'We shall have no rain just yet a bit.'
'It's a perfect day,' said Frances. 'I really sometimes think I like autumn as well as spring.'
'I have always liked it much better,' said Jacinth calmly.
Lady Myrtle was walking up and down the terrace, waiting for them. She was much better—for her, indeed, quite well—she said, and her face lighted up with pleasure as she kissed Jacinth tenderly. Then she turned to the younger ones and kissed them too.
'I must have a good look at you, Frances,' she said. 'No—you are not a Moreland, and yet—yes, there is a slight something—in spite of your blue eyes and shaggy hair,' and she patted Frances's head. 'And you, my boy;' and she examined Eugene in his turn. 'His eyes are more like his grandmother's; nothing approaching your eyes, Jacinth, but still they are more of the colour.'
'Eugene is very like mamma,' said Frances eagerly. 'Everybody says so.'
'And I'm called after her,' added Eugene.
'So that's quite as it should be,' said Lady Myrtle. 'And some day I hope I may have the great pleasure of comparing mamma and her boy together. Now dears, listen to my plan—would you like to go a drive this afternoon, or would you rather play about the garden and the little farm? I mean Frances and Eugene—Jacinth, of course, is quite at home here.'