always seen before her. She
was a picture of a bride; and when she and Hector hung round the
Doctor, insisting that Edinburgh should be the first place they should
visit, and calling forth minute directions for their pilgrimage to the
scenes of his youth, promising to come home and tell him all, no wonder
he felt himself rather gaining a child than losing one. He was very
bright and happy; and no one but Ethel understood how all the time
there was a sensation that the present was but a strange dreamy parody
of that marriage which had been the theme of earlier hopes.

The wedding had taken place shortly after Easter; and immediately
after, the Rivers family had departed for London, and Tom May had
returned to Cambridge, leaving the home party at the minimum of four,
since, Cocksmoor Parsonage being complete, Richard had become only a
daily visitor instead of a constant inhabitant.

There he sat, occupying his never idle hands with a net that he kept
for such moments, whilst Ethel sat behind her urn, now giving out its
last sighs, profiting by the leisure to read the county newspaper,
while she continually filled up her cup with tea or milk as occasion
served, indifferent to the increasing pallor of the liquid.

Mary, a 'fine young woman,' as George Rivers called her, of blooming
face and sweet open expression, had begun, at Gertrude's entreaty, a
game of French billiards. Gertrude had still her childish sunny face
and bright hair, and even at the trying age of twelve was pleasing,
chiefly owing to the caressing freedom of manner belonging to an
unspoilable pet. Her request to Aubrey to join the sport had been
answered with a half petulant shake of the head, and he flung himself
into his father's chair, his long legs hanging over one arm--an
attitude that those who had ever been under Mrs. May's discipline
thought impossible in the drawing-room; but Aubrey was a rival pet, and
with the family characteristics of aquiline features, dark gray eyes,
and beautiful teeth, had an air of fragility and easy languor that
showed his exercise of the immunities of ill-health. He had been
Ethel's pupil till Tom's last year at Eton, when he was sent thither,
and had taken a good place; but his brother's vigilant and tender care
could not save him from an attack on the chest, that settled his
public-school education for ever, to his severe mortification, just
when Tom's shower of honours was displaying to him the sweets of
emulat