said this morning we
should be all ill if we passed another night in that way; so he and
Biddy have been putting up the beds, and getting the upstairs rooms in
order, and Mollie was sent down to make the dining-room a little tidy.'

'But, mamma----' pleaded Molly, turning very red.

'My dear little girl,' observed her mother sweetly, 'Miss Ross can see
for herself the room has not been touched.'

'Because Kester was asleep, and Cyril told me I must not wake him,'
persisted Molly, looking ready to cry again; 'and whenever I began,
either you or Cyril called me;' and here, though Mollie dashed away a
tear bravely, another followed, and would splash down on her frock, for
the poor little soul was tired and dispirited, and Miss Ross would think
she had been idle, instead of having worked like a slave since early
morning.

'Don't be a goose, Mollie!' retorted Mrs. Blake, with the ready
good-humour that seemed natural to her; 'you are too old to cry at a
word. Miss Ross, may I have one of those delicious cakes? I shall feel a
different woman after my tea. Children, what can have become of your
brother? I thought he was only going out for half an hour.'

'He is to dine at Woodcote to-night, I believe, Mrs. Blake.'

'Yes; Dr. Ross kindly asked him this morning. I must not begin to talk
about Cyril; that must be a tabooed subject. Of course, a mother has a
right to be proud of her son--and such a son, too!--but it is not
necessary for her to bore other people. If you were to ask me'--with a
low laugh of amusement at her own expense--'if I thought any other
mother's son could be as handsome and clever and affectionate as my
Cyril, I should probably say no; but I will be prudent for once: I will
not try to prejudice you in his favour. Cyril shall stand on his own
merits to-night; he will not need his mother's recommendation.'

Mrs. Blake made this speech with such a pretty air of assurance, such a
conviction that there was something pardonable in her egotism, with such
winning frankness, that Audrey forgave the thoughtless insinuation
against poor overtasked Mollie. It was evident that Mrs. Blake idolised
her eldest son; her eyes softened as she mentioned his name.

'Ah, there is his step!' she added hastily. 'No one walks in the same
way as Cyril does; isn't it a light, springy tread? But,' checking
herself with another laugh, 'I must really hold my tongue, or you will
think me a very silly woman.'

'No; I like you all