odd mixture of Lieschen's German and of English, pervaded by
stable slang, and was altogether a curious study of the effects of
absentee parents; nevertheless Honora and Lucilla both took a
considerable fancy to him, the latter patronizing him to such a degree
that she hardly allowed him to eat the much-needed breakfast, which
recalled colour to his cheek and substance to his voice.

After much thought, Owen delivered himself of the sentiment that
'people's papas and mammas were very funny,' doubtless philosophizing on
the inconsistency of the class in being, some so willing, some so
reluctant, to leave their children behind them. Honor fully agreed with
him, but did not think the discussion profitable for Robin, whom she now
proposed to take home in the pony-carriage. Lucilla, always eager for
novelty, and ardent for her new friendship, begged to accompany her.
Owen was afraid of the strangers, and preferred Miss Wells.

Even as they set out, they found that Robert's disappearance had created
some sensation, for the clerk's wife was hurrying up to ask if Miss
Charlecote had the keys, that she might satisfy the man from Beauchamp
that Master Fulmort was not in the church. At the lodge the woman threw
up her hands with joy at the sight of the child; and some way off, on the
sward, stood a bigger boy, who, with a loud hurrah, scoured away towards
the house as the carriage appeared.

'That's Mervyn,' said Robert; 'he is gone to tell them.'

Beauchamp was many degrees grander since Honor had last visited it. The
approach was entirely new. Two fresh wings had been added, and the front
was all over scaffolds and cement, in all stages of colour, from rich
brown to permanent white. Robert explained that nothing was so nice as
to watch the workmen, and showed Lucilla a plasterer on the topmost stage
of the scaffolding, who, he said, was the nicest man he knew, and could
sing all manner of songs.

Rather nervously Honora drove under the poles to the hall-door, where two
girls were seen in the rear of a Frenchwoman; and Honor felt as if Robin
might have grounds for his 'moral hatred' when her voluble transports of
gratitude and affection broke forth, and the desolation in which the loss
had left them was described. Robert edged back from her at once, and
flew to another party at the bottom of the stairs--a very stout nurse and
an uncapped, flaxen-haired madchen, who clasped him in her arms, and
cried, and sobbed over hi