Max took possession of the chair by her side, his face lighted up
with pleasure and admiration. He was too thoroughly natural and healthy
a lad to be much troubled with sentiment, but ever since one winter
morning five years before, when Rosalind had first appeared in the
little country church, she had been his ideal of all that was womanly
and beautiful. At every meeting he discovered fresh charms, and to-day
was no exception to the rule. She was taller, fairer, more elegant. In
_some_ mysterious manner she seemed to have grown older than he, so
that, though he was in reality three years her senior, he was still a
boy, while she was almost a young lady.

Mrs Asplin looked across the room, and a little anxious furrow showed
in her forehead. Maxwell's admiration for Rosalind was already an old
story, and as she saw his eager face and sparkling eyes, a pang of fear
came into his mother's heart. If the Darcys were constantly coming down
to the Larches, it was only natural to suppose that this admiration
would increase, and it would never do for Max to fall in love with
Rosalind! The vicar's son would be no match for Lord Darcy's daughter;
it would only mean a heartache for the poor lad, a clouded horizon just
when life should be the brightest. For a moment a prevision of trouble
filled her heart, then she waved it away in her cheery, hopeful
fashion--

"Why, what a goose I am! They are only children. Time enough to worry
my head about love affairs in half a dozen years to come. The lad would
be a Stoic if he didn't admire her. I don't see how he could help it!"

"Rosalind is lovelier than ever, Lady Darcy, if that is possible!" she
said aloud, and her companion's face brightened with pleasure.

"Oh, do you think so?" she cried eagerly. "I am so glad to hear it, for
this growing stage is so trying. I was afraid she might outgrow her
strength and lose her complexion, but so far I don't think it has
suffered. I am very careful of her diet, and my maid understands all
the new skin treatments. So much depends on a girl's complexion. I
notice your youngest daughter has a very good colour. May I ask what
you use?"

"Soap and water, fresh air, good plain food,--those are the only
cosmetics we use in this house," said Mrs Asplin, laughing outright at
the idea of Mellicent's healthy bloom being the result of "skin
treatment." "I am afraid I have too much to do looking after the
necessities of life for my gi