something very delightful is going to happen to me to-day--though, to
be sure, Sunday isn't usually a day when exciting things occur."

"Dreams generally go by contraries," observed Joan sagely. "And I
rather think the same applies to presentiments. I know that whenever I
have felt a comfortable assurance that everything was going smoothly,
it has generally been followed by one of the servants giving notice, or
the bursting of the kitchen boiler, or something equally disagreeable."

Diana gurgled unfeelingly.

"Oh, those are merely the commonplaces of existence," she replied. "I
was meaning"--waving her hand expansively--"big things."

"And when you've got your own house, my dear," retorted Joan, "you'll
find those commonplaces of existence assume alarmingly big proportions."

Soon after Stair had finished his after-breakfast pipe, the chiming of
the bells announced that it was time to prepare for church. The
Rectory pew was situated close to the pulpit, at right angles to the
body of the church, and Diana and Joan took their places one at either
end of it. As the former was wont to remark: "It's such a comfort when
there's no competition for the corner seats."

The organ had ceased playing, and the words "_Dearly beloved_" had
already fallen from the Rector's lips, when the churchdoor opened once
again to admit some late arrivals. Instinctively Diana looked up from
her prayer-book, and, as her glance fell upon the newcomers, the pupils
of her eyes dilated until they looked almost black, while a wave of
colour rushed over her face, dyeing it scarlet from brow to throat.