. As she went, Lady Arabella,
kissed her son's forehead, and then his sisters kissed him, and one
or two of his lady-cousins; and then Miss Bateson shook him by the
hand. "Oh, Miss Bateson," said he, "I thought the kissing was to go
all round." So Miss Bateson laughed and went her way; and Patience
Oriel nodded at him, but Mary Thorne, as she quietly left the room,
almost hidden among the extensive draperies of the grander ladies,
hardly allowed her eyes to meet his.

He got up to hold the door for them as they passed; and as they went,
he managed to take Patience by the hand; he took her hand and pressed
it for a moment, but dropped it quickly, in order that he might go
through the same ceremony with Mary, but Mary was too quick for him.

"Frank," said Mr Gresham, as soon as the door was closed, "bring
your glass here, my boy;" and the father made room for his son close
beside himself. "The ceremony is now over, so you may have your place
of dignity." Frank sat himself down where he was told, and Mr Gresham
put his hand on his son's shoulder and half caressed him, while the
tears stood in his eyes. "I think the doctor is right, Baker, I think
he'll never make us ashamed of him."

"I am sure he never will," said Mr Baker.

"I don't think he ever will," said Dr Thorne.

The tones of the men's voices were very different. Mr Baker did not
care a straw about it; why should he? He had an heir of his own as
well as the squire; one also who was the apple of _his_ eye. But the
doctor,--he did care; he had a niece, to be sure, whom he loved,
perhaps as well as these men loved their sons; but there was room in
his heart also for young Frank Gresham.

After this small expose of feeling they sat silent for a moment or
two. But silence was not dear to the heart of the Honourable John,
and so he took up the running.

"That's a niceish nag you gave Frank this morning," he said to his
uncle. "I was looking at him before dinner. He is a Monsoon, isn't
he?"

"Well I can't say I know how he was bred," said the squire. "He shows
a good deal of breeding."

"He's a Monsoon, I'm sure," said the Honourable John. "They've all
those ears, and that peculiar dip in the back. I suppose you gave a
goodish figure for him?"

"Not so very much," said the squire.

"He's a trained hunter, I suppose?"

"If not, he soon will be," said the squire.

"Let Frank alone for that," said Harry Baker.

"He jumps beautifully, sir," said Frank. "I