nning to dislike her too fascinating cousin.

It seemed to her, as it did to Rex, that the weeks had been filled with
a tumultuous life evident to all observers: if he had been questioned
on the subject he would have said that he had no wish to conceal what
he hoped would be an engagement which he should immediately tell his
father of: and yet for the first time in his life he was reserved not
only about his feelings but--which was more remarkable to Anna--about
certain actions. She, on her side, was nervous each time her father or
mother began to speak to her in private lest they should say anything
about Rex and Gwendolen. But the elders were not in the least alive to
this agitating drama, which went forward chiefly in a sort of pantomime
extremely lucid in the minds thus expressing themselves, but easily
missed by spectators who were running their eyes over the _Guardian_ or
the _Clerical Gazette_, and regarded the trivialities of the young ones
with scarcely more interpretation than they gave to the action of
lively ants.

"Where are you going, Rex?" said Anna one gray morning when her father
had set off in his carriage to the sessions, Mrs. Gascoigne with him,
and she had observed that her brother had on his antigropelos, the
utmost approach he possessed to a hunting equipment.

"Going to see the hounds throw off at the Three Barns."

"Are you going to take Gwendolen?" said Anna, timidly.

"She told you, did she?"

"No, but I thought--Does papa know you are going?"

"Not that I am aware of. I don't suppose he would trouble himself about
the matter."

"You are going to use his horse?"

"He knows I do that whenever I can."

"Don't let Gwendolen ride after the hounds, Rex," said Anna, whose
fears gifted her with second-sight.

"Why not?" said Rex, smiling rather provokingly.

"Papa and mamma and aunt Davilow all wish her not to. They think it is
not right for her."

"Why should you suppose she is going to do what is not right?"

"Gwendolen minds nobody sometimes," said Anna getting bolder by dint of
a little anger.

"Then she would not mind me," said Rex, perversely making a joke of
poor Anna's anxiety.

"Oh Rex, I cannot bear it. You will make yourself very unhappy." Here
Anna burst into tears.

"Nannie, Nannie, what on earth is the matter with you?" said Rex, a
little impatient at being kept in this way, hat on and whip in hand.

"She will not care for you one bit--I know she never will!" said