favour of the
invitation, Mr. Rivers gained his point, and she had ever since been
persuading her father to like the notion, and assuring him it need not
be made a precedent for the renewal of invitations to dine out in the
town. He thought the change would be pleasant for his girls, and had,
therefore, consented.

"Oh, papa, papa! thank you!" cried Ethel, enraptured, as soon as he
came into the room. "How very kind of you! How I have wished to see the
Grange, and all Norman talks about! Oh, dear! I am so glad you are going
there too!"

"Why, what should you do with me?" said Dr. May, who felt and looked
depressed at this taking up of the world again.

"Oh, dear! I should not like it at all without you! It would be no fun
at all by ourselves. I wish Flora would come home. How pleased she will
be! Papa, I do wish you would look as if you didn't mind it! I can't
enjoy it if you don't like going."

"I shall when I am there, my dear," said the doctor affectionately,
putting his arm around her as she stood by him. "It will be a fine day's
sport for you."

"But can't you like it beforehand, papa?"

"Not just this minute, Ethel," said he, with his bright, sad smile. "All
I like just now is my girl's not being able to do without me; but we'll
do the best we can. So your flock acquitted themselves brilliantly? Who
is your Senior Wrangler?"

Ethel threw herself eagerly into the history of the examination, and had
almost forgotten the invitation till she heard the front door open. Then
it was not she, but Margaret, who told Flora--Ethel could not, as she
said, enjoy what seemed to sadden her father. Flora received it much
more calmly. "It will be very pleasant," said she; "it was very kind of
papa to consent. You will have Richard and Norman, Margaret, to be with
you in the evening."

And, as soon as they went upstairs, Ethel began to write down the list
of prizes in her school journal, while Flora took out the best evening
frocks, to study whether the crape looked fresh enough.

The invitation was a convenient subject of conversation, for Norman had
so much to tell his sisters of the curiosities they must look for at the
Grange, that he was not obliged to mention Cocksmoor. He did not like
to mortify Ethel by telling her his intense disgust, and he knew he
was about to do what she would think a great injury by speaking to his
father on the subject; but he thought it for her real welfare, and
took the first opportunity