sigh for the memory of the times that were no more.

On frequent occasions this same curious, and to English-bred Sylvia,
inexplicable regret for the days of old was manifested by the dwellers
on the country-side. "_What did they want_?" she asked herself
impatiently. "What could they wish for that had not already been done?"
Repaired cottages, improved sanitation, higher wages, perquisites
without number--since the new reign all these things had been bestowed
upon these ungratefuls, and still they dared to regret the past!

Sylvia had not yet grasped the fact that her birth and upbringing made a
chasm between herself and her tenants which no kindness could span.
They would burn her peat, waste her food, accept, and more or less waste
again, all that she chose to bestow, but given a choice between the
present days of plenty and the lean, bare years of the reign of the
jovial "Major" and his brood, they would enthusiastically have acclaimed
the latter's return.

Occasionally something of the same spirit would manifest itself in the
O'Shaughnessys themselves, as when Jack's voice would take on an
apologetic tone in telling his brother of some improvement in the
estate, or Pixie gazing at the old Persian carpet in the dining-room
would sigh regretfully, "There _used_ to be a hole!" On such occasions
Sylvia was sometimes forced to depart on a visit to the nursery and
relieve her feelings by a stamp _en route_. When she returned Jack's
twinkling eyes would search her face, and he would take an early
opportunity of passing her chair and touching her with a caressing hand,
and once more all would be peace and joy.

Jack and his wife heard from Pat's lips all details as to Stanor Vaughan
and his approaching marriage, but to Pixie herself the subject was never
mentioned.

"Anyway, she's not fretting!" said Jack. "Never saw her brighter and
happier. Bless her big, little heart! I'm thankful the fellow has
taken himself out of her way. She'd never have given him up of her own
accord. We've all been so happy in our marriages that we can't stand
any second-bests for Pixie! When are _you_ going to settle down, old
chap?"

"Oh, about next June year," replied Pat calmly. "Always said I would
about twenty-eight. Nice time of year, too, for a honeymoon!"

"But ... but..." Jack stammered in surprise. "Have you met the girl?"

"My good man! Dozens! There's no difficulty there. Faith, I love them
all!" sighed hands