ckerbockers. Then we
shall be able to do what we like."

When this sartorial revolution had been discussed, Cicely asked, "Has
Muriel been over while I have been away?"

"Yes," replied Joan. "Walter was at Mountfield on Sunday, and they came
over in the afternoon. They prowled about together. Of course they
didn't want us."

"But they had us all the same," said Nancy, with a grin. "We stalked
them. They kissed in the Temple, and again in the peach-house."

"But there were lucid intervals," said Joan. "They have made up their
minds about something or other; we couldn't quite hear what it was. They
were in the kitchen garden, and we were on the other side of the wall."

"You weren't listening, darling?" hazarded Cicely.

"Oh, rather not! We wouldn't do such a thing. But Nancy and I like to
pace up and down the yew walk in contemplation, and of course if they
liked to pace up and down by the asparagus beds at the same time, we
couldn't help hearing the murmur of their voices."

"It is something very serious," said Nancy. "Walter is going to tackle
Edward about it at once. And Muriel is quite at one with him in the
matter. She said so."

"How they do go on together, those two!" said Joan. "You would think
they had never met in their lives until they got engaged six months ago.
When they came out of the peach-house Nancy said, 'And this is love!'
Then she ran away."

"Only because Walter ran after me," said Nancy.

"And Muriel put her arm round my neck," continued Joan, "and said, 'O
Joan, _darling_! I am so happy that I don't care _who_ sees me.'
Positively nauseating, I call it. You and Jim don't behave like that,
Sis."

"I should think not," said Cicely primly.

"Well, you're engaged--or as good as," said Nancy. "But I do rather
wonder what Walter is going to tackle Edward about. It can't be to hurry
on the wedding, for it's only a month off now."

"We shall know pretty soon," said Joan. "Father doesn't keep things to
himself."

"No, I expect Edward will make a deuce of a row," said Nancy.

"Nancy!" said Cicely sharply, "you are not to talk like that."

"Darling!" said Nancy in a voice of grieved expostulation. "It is what
Walter said to Muriel. I thought there _couldn't_ be any harm in it."

The twins--they were called "the twankies" by their brothers--went off
after tea in the schoolroom to see the young pheasants with their
father. They were lively and talkative, and the Squire laughed at them
sev