"Do tell me, my love, if you're done counting the raindrops on the windowpane and I shall congratulate you for it," Stokeford, looking up from the Times, said drily to his wife. They were presently in the library on this cold rainy day in October, enjoying a cheery fire together with the newest addition to their household: a golden-brown spaniel by the name of Eliot, who was leisurely reclining at the foot of her mistress. Lady Caroline Stokeford sighed and smiled sheepishly at her lord. "No, you may not. The truth is I've lost count of it already. I just wish it would stop raining now."

"Caro, this is England. What else do you expect? In any event I told Hayes to set aside the work on the bridge over the creek. The bank already looks like a deplorable sludge. While we'd been sojourning in the sunny Rome, it seems that storm after storm came visiting here to wreck havoc."

"Yes, even Papa had told me about it. Does Robert intend to visit us? He has not yet returned to London, has he?"

"No, but I expect he will come over by the weekend," replied Stokeford and once more retreated to his newspaper.

Caroline let out a faint sigh again and turned to the window. Outside was a very unflattering view of grey and mist, and the downpour never seemed to cease. In this kind of weather there wasn't anything one could do but to curl up before the fire and bury one's nose in a nice book. Not that Caroline found anything dull in this. She was quite thankful for every thing that was happening to her, either small or big. Even the simple comfort of having able to spend a small time of leisure in the company of her husband seemed luxury enough. Marriage life proved to be agreeable for her, and it brought her a whirlwind of things to learn as a wife and as a mistress of her own establishment.

She was about to return to her neglected reading when she saw a carriage trotting down the muddy drive and exclaimed brightly: "Why, only look, Stefan. I do think this is Robert!"

Stefan set aside the newspaper and stood, and sauntered towards her. He frowned. "Very unlikely, as I don't think that is his coach. If I am not mistaken, that is a hired one. I wonder?"

His wife raised her bemused countenance to him. "But who can it be if not Robert? I daresay no one would have ventured to travel under this kind of weather. Are you expecting someone else?"

"Not that I am aware of, love. You just stay here while I'll discover the identity of our queer visitor." He turned to his heels and left the room. Caroline relaxed on her seat again and forced her wandering mind to the book in her hand. Eliot gave a hearty yawn and curled closer to her, apparently scraping for some attention. Laughing softly, she put the book down and picked him up, placing him on her lap. "Naughty boy! I know you are dying for a scratch this age!" she said, scratching him under his muzzle. In response to this, Eliot barked cheerfully and stuck his tongue out. "Yes, that feels good isn't it? Although you often do not have this kind of luck when your master is around."

Again, he barked and hung his head on the side as if in askance.

Caroline regarded him pensively. "Well, I personally think you are not very accomplished in turning him up sweet. Not that he dislikes dogs of course; he treasures his hounds as much as his horses. Still, you must make a little more exertion if you want his entire attention." Eliot listened for a while, but in the end it seemed that he lost interest in his mistress's advice, and slumped down, his eyes half-closing. Observing him, Caroline chastised him for being inattentive, and that she didn't wonder at all why Stefan was not inclined to play with him. "And speaking of him, who is this strange visitor that keeps him long?" she mused loudly.

Eliot made a queer sound but sat up when the door opened again. He was checked however when it was a stranger that entered and not his master. Thus, he barked fiercely for this sudden intrusion, but his mistress had a wholly different reaction, and he found himself being abruptly cast aside as she flew to the stranger.

"Laurie! Oh, Laurie you've come back!" cried Caroline, her arms opening to him.

Laughing, Laurie returned: "Ho! Careful now if you do not want to get wet! Yes, I am back. Let me take a look at you, Caro!" He studied her radiant face, and saw a vast difference, just as he did when he set his eyes on his cousin earlier. She was more beautiful than he remembered, and, he thought amusedly, looking in every inch ladylike. After this perfunctory scrutiny, he dropped a kiss on her cheek and said: "How marvelous it is that you are now my cousin! I was very sorry indeed to have missed your wedding. Stefan's letter informing me of your marriage took a fortnight to reach me, and then it was three days after that another arrived, telling me that you're leaving for your honeymoon. By that time I was nearly to the point of packing my things and leaving Paris posthaste! So there was really no opportune time for visit."

"I understand, cousin, but it did not matter at all. It gladdens my heart to see you again, and that's the most important thing."

His brows rose. "What, never tell me my cousin is not doing his husbandly duties to the full?"

Despite herself, she blushed. "Of course he does, silly!" She added coyly, fluttering her lashes: "And I assure you, he is never remiss."

This made Laurie dissolve into a fit of laughter. "Caro, you — imp! Lord, if Stefan heard that — !"

Her eyes twinkled at his own. "Pray, do not tell him! He has a most firm inclination towards discretion, you know. But do take a seat before the fire before you'll catch a chill. I've missed you so! Tell me how you did go on in France."

Before he could embark on his account, the smallest member of the household rose his objection by growling and barking, thereby catching Laurie's notice for the first time since he entered the room. "But who is this little fellow?" he asked, sauntering towards Eliot.

"This is Eliot, Laurie. He is with us for more than a month now."

But Eliot was anything but polite, sensing that he had a new rival in his mistress's attention to contend with. He showed an inclination to bite the hand that was outstretched to him, but a sharp reprimand from the doorway prevented him from doing so. He jumped from the couch and rushed to his master.

"Behave!" Stokeford told him in an uncompromising tone. Deaf to this command, Eliot pawed his master's shoe, and happily stuck out his tongue up at him. "He should have been named Idiot," Stokeford said, and added that he would not answer to anything that his valet might do to him, should there be one scratch that would appear on his shoe.

"He is seeking attention, poor boy," Caroline explained, scooping Eliot into her arms and depositing him once more on the couch. "Sit there and don't move; else, you'll incur your master's displeasure and we do not want that to happen, do we?"

As though comprehending the situation in which he stood, Eliot did as he was told, and desisted from barking again.

"Wise boy!" said Laurie drily. "Seems that he's taken me into dislike though."

"That's because he only likes those whose intentions are entirely his. I cannot say the same in my case though; most of the time I ignore him, but he bothers me to death. You should change first, Laurie. You are wet to the bones."

"Oh, yes, do that Laurie! And get some rest for an hour or two. I'll send up a tray in your room. We dine at seven."

Even the stormy night not could not ruin the cheerful mood of everyone as they sat for dinner. Laurie was full of amusing stories, and in turn was both astonished and extremely diverted as he heard Caroline's account of the happenings while he was away. No trace of self-consciousness or reserve could be found in his manner, for although the memories of the last time that he'd been here were something that he was inclined to forget, it was somehow overshadowed by the happy feeling of having been able to see Caroline and Stokeford together without suffering any pang. He had moved on, and he was extremely glad for them both.

The next day miraculously brought a complacent weather: not sunny, but there was still enough sunshine for one to enjoy an early ride. Laurie woke up betimes for this very intention, and was not at all surprised when he saw his cousin at the stable yard, leading Faust out.

"Good morning, cousin! You're up early."

"Good morning. So are you. I trust you had a good night's sleep? The wind was incredible last night, and the rain did not stop until very early in the morning."

"Egad, yes! The pounding on my window never ceased. Nevertheless I still slept soundly." Laurie climbed up on his saddle and led his horse to a trot, keeping abreast with Stefan.

"Shall we ride to the Forest Creek? I am building a bridge over there. I'll show you."

"Was there a necessity to build one?"

"Well, yes," responded Stefan. "One of my tenants's son fell and was nearly drowned as he accidentally slipped on the banks. I thought it would be much easier for them to cross a bridge rather than to walk around to reach the opposite side."

"But how very considerate, my lord!" Laurie remarked amusedly.

"Truthfully, the idea was Caroline's, not mine."

They rode to the direction of the woodland, and upon seeing the creek in which a great deal of his childhood larks had been spent together with his cousin's, Laurie reminded Stefan wryly about that particular time when they went out fishing, despite the late Earl's expressed prohibition. "We made so many memories here since we learned how to swim," he remarked.

Having done with his inspection of the bridge's unfinished wooden framework, Stefan returned to his horse and smiled at Laurie. "Ah, yes. And Father knew about it eventually but you already made your good escape so I shouldered all the blame, rascal."

Laurie replied ruefully: "You always did, cousin."

"Disabuse your mind of the notion that I was the prefect martyr — hardly so! I fabricated a few lies to lessen his wrath. Luckily it did work." disclosed his cousin, and they started to gallop once more.

Several minutes later, they trotted up the hillside, and Laurie asked if March was coming.

"Yes, he is. Over the weekend, I should say."

"Oh! Then perhaps I can stay here for a week or two."

Stefan regarded him quietly for a while, and eventually told him: "Not just a week or two, cousin. You can stay here for as long as you wish. We won't go back to town until next month."

"But surely, you'll want some time alone with your bride?"

"Yes, but we'll be more happier when you're around. I've never been so glad in your homecoming as I am right now. You know very well that you are family," Stefan said kindly. "Besides, I know that Caroline is dying for a companion to talk to whenever I am occupied with the estate, which has become alarmingly often since we returned."

He flashed him a grin. "Very well. If you insist, my lord. I am — very grateful to you, and to Caroline. Egad, but it's good to be home again at last!"

"In that case," said Stefan, returning his smile with his own warm one, "welcome home, Laurie."