other significantly,
and waited in silence. Two hours passed--and there were no signs of
Magdalen. Norah rose, as the clock struck twelve, and quietly left the
room to look for her.

She was not upstairs dusting her jewelry and disarranging her dresses.
She was not in the conservatory, not in the flower-garden; not in the
kitchen teasing the cook; not in the yard playing with the dogs. Had
she, by any chance, gone out with her father? Mr. Vanstone had announced
his intention, at the breakfast-table, of paying a morning visit to
his old ally, Mr. Clare, and of rousing the philosopher's sarcastic
indignation by an account of the dramatic performance. None of the other
ladies at Combe-Raven ever ventured themselves inside the cottage. But
Magdalen was reckless enough for anything--and Magdalen might have gone
there. As the idea occurred to her, Norah entered the shrubbery.

At the second turning, where the path among the trees wound away out
of sight of the house, she came suddenly face to face with Magdalen and
Frank: they were sauntering toward her, arm in arm, their heads close
together, their conversation apparently proceeding in whispers. They
looked suspiciously handsome and happy. At the sight of Norah both
started, and both stopped. Frank confusedly raised his hat, and turned
back in the direction of his father's cottage. Magdalen advanced to meet
her sister, carelessly swinging her closed parasol from side to side,
carelessly humming an air from the overture which had preceded the
rising of the curtain on the previous night.

"Luncheon-time already!" she said, looking at her watch. "Surely not?"

"Have you and Mr. Francis Clare been alone in the shrubbery since ten
o'clock?" asked Norah.

"_Mr._ Francis Clare! How ridiculously formal you are. Why don't you
call him Frank?"

"I asked you a question, Magdalen."

"Dear me, how black you look this morning! I'm in disgrace, I suppose.
Haven't you forgiven me yet for my acting last night? I couldn't help
it, love; I should have made nothing of Julia, if I hadn't taken you
for my model. It's quite a question of Art. In your place, I should have
felt flattered by the selection."

"In _your_ place, Magdalen, I should have thought twice before I
mimicked my sister to an audience of strangers."

"That's exactly why I did it--an audience of strangers. How were they
to know? Come! come! don't be angry. You are eight years older than I
am--you ought to set me an exam