Happily it was but vanity, and no deeper feeling.

Of this he was assured by the reposeful sigh with which he turned his head upon the pillow, drowsing to oblivion.
One unbroken sleep brought him to sunrise; a golden glimmer upon the blind in his return to consciousness told him that the rain was over, and tempted him to look forth.

What he saw was decisive; with such a sky as that gleaming over the summer world, who could lie in bed?
Will always dressed as if in a fury; seconds sufficed him for details of the toilet, which, had he spent minutes over them, would have fretted his nerves intolerably.

His bath was one wild welter--not even the ceiling being safe from splashes; he clad himself in a brief series of plunges; his shaving might have earned the applause of an assembly gathered to behold feats of swift dexterity.

Quietly he descended the stairs, and found the house-door already open; this might only mean that the servant was already up, but he suspected that the early riser was Jane.
So it proved; he walked toward the kitchen garden, and there stood his sister, the sun making her face rosy.
"Come and help to pick scarlet runners," was her greeting, as he approached.