"Ntoniè, tell me, did you read all the news this morning?"
"No—a little," Nina answered, snipping off the redundant stalks of the grapes.
"You did not see the announcement about—about Miss Cunyngham?"
At the mention of this name, Nina looked up quickly, and there was some color in the pale, clear complexion.
"No. What is it, Leo?"
"I thought you might have seen that, at all events," he said, lightly. "Well, I will read it to you. 'A marriage has been arranged and will shortly take place between Lord Rockminster, eldest son of the Earl of Fareborough, and Miss Honnor Cunyngham, daughter of the late Sir George Cunyngham, and sister
of Sir Hugh Cunyngham, of the Braes, Perthshire, and Aivron Lodge, Campden Hill.' I should like to have sent them a little wedding-present," he went on, absently, "for both of them have been very kind to me; but I am grown penurious in my old age; I suppose we shall have to consider every farthing for many a day to come."
"Leo, why will you not take any of my money?" Nina exclaimed, but with shy and downcast face.
"Your money!" he said, laughing. "You talk as if you were a Russian princess, Ntoniella!"
He drew aside the reeded blind of one of the windows and went out into the soft air; both land and sea—that beautiful stretch of shining blue—seemed quivering in the heat and abundant sunlight of June.