In the course of the meal he mentioned that his sister would come
down from London in a day or two. Christmas was only a week off, and
he had thought it would be pleasant to have her at the Manor for
that season.

'Oh, that's very nice!' assented Mrs. Waltham. 'Alice, her name is,
didn't you say? Is she dark or fair?'

'Fair, and just about Adela's height, I should think. I hope you'll
like her, Adela.'

It was unfortunate that Richard did not pronounce the name of his
bride elect quite as it sounds on cultured lips. This may have been
partly the result of diffidence; but there was a slurring of the
second syllable disagreeably suggestive of vulgarity. It struck on
the girl's nerves, and made it more difficult for her to grow
accustomed to this form of address from Mutimer.

'I'm sure I shall try to,' she replied to the remark about Alice,
this time endeavouring to fix her obstinate eyes for a moment on
Richard's face.

'Your brother won't come, then?' Mrs. Waltham asked.

'Not just yet, I'm afraid. He's busy studying.'

'To read and write, I fear,' was the lady's silent comment. On the
score of Alice, too, Mrs. Waltham nursed a certain anxiety. The
damsels of the working class are, or so she apprehended, somewhat
more difficult of acceptance than their fathers and brothers, and