During the day, as Eric was too weak to walk
with them, Montagu and Wildney used to take boating and fishing
excursions by themselves, but in the evening the whole party would sit
out reading and talking in the garden till twilight fell. The two
visitors began to hope that Mrs. Trevor had been mistaken, and that
Eric's health would still recover; but Mrs. Trevor would not deceive
herself with a vain hope, and the boy himself shook his head when they
called him convalescent.
Their hopes were never higher than one evening about a week after their
arrival, when they were all seated, as usual, in the open air, under a
lime-tree on the lawn. The sun was beginning to set, and the rain of
golden sunlight fell over them through the green ambrosial foliage of
the tree whose pale blossoms were still murmurous with bees. Eric was
leaning back in an easy chair, with Wildney sitting on the grass,
cross-legged at his feet, while Montagu, resting on one of the mossy
roots, read to them the "Midsummer Night's Dream," and the ladies were
busy with their work.
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