rturbable, had shed tears on her behalf!

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

Home again, and home with quite a festival air about _it_ in honour of
your return. Flowers in every corner, silver candelabra on the dining-
table, favourite dishes for every course, a fire in one's bedroom,
chocolates lying ready at every turn--it was all most grateful and
soothing! Dreda sunned herself in the atmosphere of tenderness and
approval, and though no one referred in words to her disappointment, she
knew that it was an underlying thought in every mind, and her sore heart
was soothed afresh by each new instance of kindliness and care. The
first evening was spent according to good old-fashioned custom, sitting
round the schoolroom fire, brothers and sisters together, talking over
the events of the term, and comparing exploits and adventures. In the
dim firelight Dreda edged close to Gurth's side and slipped her hand
through his arm; and, wonder of wonders! instead of pushing her away,
Gurth gave it a quick little grip, and leant his broad shoulder against
hers in response. The boys were on their best behaviour, amiable and
conciliatory, without a hint of the overbearing condescension which was
apt to mark the end of the holidays. If there was a blot on the general
harmony it was to be found in the air of detachment with which Rowena
took part in the conversation. She was perfectly amiable, perfectly
sweet, conscientiously interested in the different exploits, yet one and
all felt disagreeably conscious that she was no longer one of their
number, and that her thoughts were continually straying off on
excursions of their own. Dreda remembered the parting promise of "Lots
to tell!" and looked forward to hair-brushing confidences later on, but
none were forthcoming. Rowena remained loving, preoccupied, and
inscrutable.

Alone with Maud, Dreda discussed the change in her sister's manner; but
Maud's explanation, though verbose, was hardly enlightening.

"She's nineteen. She'll be twenty on the twenty-first of October next.
She's got a train to her last new dress. And then there's teaching
me... She orders me about as if she were a hundred, but lately she's
grown moony. If I keep quite still and ask no questions she begins
staring, and stares and stares and smiles to herself. So silly! But it
passes the time. When the clock strikes she gives such a jump! I'm not
getting on a bit; but I'm glad, because then I shall go to school. S