Phoebe, so she only begged him to rest till after her
early dinner, when she would convey him back to Beauchamp; and then left
him alone, while she went to look her undertaking in the face, rather
amused to find herself his last resource, and surprised to find her
spirit of enterprise rising, her memories of Alps, lakes, cathedrals, and
pictures fast assuming the old charm that had erst made her long to see
them again. And with Phoebe! Really it would be almost a disappointment
if the scheme failed.

When she again met her unwonted guest he plunged into plans, routes, and
couriers, treating her as far more completely pledged than she chose to
allow; and eating as heartily as he dared, and more so than she thought
Phoebe would approve. She was glad to have him safe at his own door,
where Phoebe ran to meet them, greatly relieved, for she had been much
disturbed by his absence at luncheon.

'Miss Charlecote! Did you meet him?'

'I went after her'--and Mervyn boyishly caught his sister round the
waist, and pushed her down into a curtsey--'make your obedience; she is
going to look after you all.'

'Going with us!' cried Phoebe, with clasped hands.

'To see about it,' began Honor, but the words were strangled in a
transported embrace.

'Dearest, dearest Miss Charlecote! Oh, I knew it would all come right if
we were patient; but, oh! that it should be so right! Oh! Mervyn, how
could you?'

'Ah! you see what it is not to be faint-hearted.' And Phoebe, whose
fault was certainly not a faint heart, laughed at this poor jest, as she
had seldom laughed before, with an _abandon_ of gaiety and joyousness.
The quiet girl was absolutely thrown off her balance, laughed and cried,
thanked and exclaimed, moved restlessly, and spoke incoherently.

'Oh! may I tell Bertha?' she asked.

'No, I'll do that,' said Mervyn. 'It is all my doing.'

'Run after him, Phoebe,' said Honor. 'Don't let Bertha think it
settled!'

And Bertha was, of course, disappointingly indifferent.

Lady Bannerman's nature was not capable of great surprise, but Miss
Charlecote's proposal was not unwelcome. 'I did not want to go,' she
said; 'though dear Sir Nicholas would have made any sacrifice, and it
would have looked so for them to have gone alone. Travelling with an
invalid is so trying, and Phoebe made such a rout about Maria, that Mr.
Crabbe insisted on her going. But you like the kind of thing.'

Honor undertook for her own taste for t