culties.

Annaple remembered at last that she ought to go and look after her
guests, assisted therein by the pleasure of giving May a hearty kiss
and light squeeze, with a murmur that 'all was right.'

She brought them downstairs just as the gong was sounding, and the rush
of girls descending from the schoolroom, and Lady Ronnisglen being
wheeled across the hall in her chair. Nuttie, who had expected to see
a gray, passive, silent old lady like Mrs. Nugent, was quite amazed at
the bright, lively face and voice that greeted the son-in-law and
grandchildren, May and herself, congratulating these two on having been
so well employed all the morning, and observing that she was afraid her
Nannie could not give so good an account of herself.

'Well,' said Sir John, 'I am sure she looks as if she found plodding
along the lanes as wholesome as sleeping in her bed! Nan Apple-cheeks,
eh?'

Whereupon Annaple's cheeks glowed all the more into resemblance of the
baby-name which she had long ceased to deserve; but May could see the
darkness under her eyes, betraying that it was only excitement that
drove away fatigue.

Sir John had not gone far in his circumstantial description of the
injuries to his unfortunate carriage when the Canon arrived, with his
wife and Blanche. Mark would have given worlds in his impatience to
have matters settled between the two parents then and there; but Lady
Ronnisglen had already warned him that this would not be possible, and
assured him that it would be much wiser to prepare his father
beforehand.

Then he fixed his hopes on a solitary drive with his father back in the
pony carriage, but he found himself told off to take that home, and had
to content himself with May as a companion. Nor was his sister's mode
of receiving the umbrella plan reassuring. She had smiled too often
with her stepmother over Nuttie's having been brought up among
umbrellas to be ready to accept the same lot for her brother and her
friend, and she was quite sure that her father would never consent.
'An Egremont an umbrella-maker! how horrible! Just fancy seeing
Dutton, Egremont and Co. on the handle of one's umbrella!'

'Well, you need not patronise us,' said Mark.

'But is it possible that Lady Ronnisglen did not object?' said May.

'She seemed to think it preferable to driving pigs in the Texas, like
her son Malcolm.'

'Yes, but then that _was_ the Texas.'

'Oh May, May, I did not think you were such a goos