as if
they were children. Mr Nash began showing me tricks with pennies after
breakfast the first morning, and I was so interested learning how to do
them that it was half-past ten before I thought of joining father at the
stables. It was too late then, and I wasn't altogether sorry, for it
was livelier going about with these new people, and it wasn't my fault,
for I should have gone if I'd remembered. I was extra nice to father at
lunch to make up, and he didn't seem a bit vexed, so I needn't trouble
another day. Really, I think it is my duty to help Vere all I can. She
questioned me about Will Dudley the first time we were alone. I knew
she would, and decided to tell her of his engagement. I had been told
not to speak of it generally; but to my own sister it was different, and
I had a feeling that she ought to know.

"Who is that Mr Dudley?" she asked, and when I told her all I knew, she
smiled and dropped her eyes in the slow, self-confident fashion which
other people think so fascinating but which always make me long to shake
her.

"Really, quite an acquisition!" she drawled. "A vast improvement on the
native one generally meets in these wilds. We must cultivate him, Babs!
He makes our number even, so we can afford to spoil him a little bit,
as it is a convenience to ourselves at the same time. It will be a
godsend for him to meet some decent people."

"As a matter of fact, he came to live in the country because he was sick
of society and society people. He is not a country bumpkin, Vere, and
won't be a bit grateful for your patronage. In fact, I don't believe he
will come oftener than once or twice. When a man is engaged it's a bore
to him to have to--"

"Engaged!" she cried. "Mr Dudley! Who told you he was engaged? I
don't believe a word of it. Some stupid local gossip! Who told you
that nonsense?"

"He told me himself!"

"He did? My dear Babs, he was having a joke! No man would confide such
a thing to a child like you!"

"You are mistaken there. He has told me heaps of things besides this,
and I know the girl, and have spoken to her about it. You know her,
too. Rachel Greaves, who lives at `The Clift'."

"Rach-el Greaves! Oh! oh!" cried Vere, and put her hands to her sides
in peals of derisive laughter. "Oh, this is too killing! And you
_believed_ it? You dear, sweet innocent! That man and--Rachel Greaves!
My dear, have you seen her hair? Have you seen her hat? Could you
re