No soldier marching into battle has been more lovingly sent on his way by his womenfolk than was Mr. Rowe when he departed for Mr. Mainwaring's house. He was sent back upstairs once to change his coat because the first one was too loose for current fashion. He complied with his wife's demands with an amused indulgence and pinched his daughter's chin as he made his escape to his waiting horse.

Mrs. Rowe and Cecily jumped to their feet in unrestrained excitement when he strolled into the drawing room a little less than two hours later, and Elizabeth smiled up at him from her embroidery.

"Well, Cecily," he began, "it seems that your mama is right again. Mr. Mainwaring is, in fact, both young and handsome."

"Oh, Papa," Cecily squealed.

"I am so gratified that you went today to pay your respects," his wife added ecstatically. "I vow that you must have stolen a march on Squire Worthing, which is only as it should be, my second cousin Harriet being sister-in-law to an earl."

"No one in his right mind would argue that that connection gives us a position of undisputed superiority in the county, my love," her husband replied indulgently, "but Worthing was there before me, with Ferdie in tow."

"How provoking!" said Mrs. Rowe. "But do tell all, my dear Mr. Rowe. What manner of man is Mr. Mainwaring, and who are his guests? Will they feel it a condescension to associate with us? Or are they prepared to join in the social activities of the neighborhood? Oh, depend upon it, Lady Worthing will have them all to dine before we can make plans. She will be pushing that pasty little Lucy at him, mark my words, though the chit is only seventeen and much too young to be setting her cap at a gentleman from town. But then, Lady Worthing always did lack something of breeding. Father a cit, you know, Miss Rossiter."

"Am I to answer your questions now, my love?" Mr. Rowe asked meekly. "The gentleman of the house is tall, dark, and handsome, Cecily-definitely the answer to a maiden's dreams, I believe. He might be difficult to bring to the point, though, love," he added as Cecily clasped her hands to her bosom and gazed adoringly at him. "His manners are quite correct, but there is a certain stiffness about the man. He is not perfectly amiable, I would guess."