et through
yet."

"You are not as well without it," cried Miss Corny, "and I don't choose
you should go without it. Take off your bonnet, Barbara. He does things
like nobody else; he is off to Castle Marling to-morrow, and never could
open his lips till just now that he was going."

"Is that invalid--Brewster, or whatever his name is--laid up at Castle
Marling, still?" exclaimed Barbara.

"He is still there," said Mr. Carlyle.

Barbara sprang up the moment tea was over.

"Dill is waiting for me in the office, and I have some hours' work
before me. However, I suppose you won't care to put up with Peter's
attendance, so make haste with your bonnet, Barbara."

She took his arm, and they walked on, Mr. Carlyle striking the hedge and
the grass with her parasol. Another minute, and the handle was in two.

"I thought you would do it," said Barbara, while he was regarding the
parasol with ludicrous dismay. "Never mind, it is an old one."

"I will bring you another to replace it. What is the color? Brown. I
won't forget. Hold the relics a minute, Barbara."

He put the pieces in her hand, and taking out a note case, made a note
in pencil.

"What's that for?" she inquired.

He held it close to her eyes, that she might discern what he had
written: "Brown parasol. B. H."

"A reminder for me, Barbara, in case I forget."

Barbara's eyes detected another item or two already entered in the note
case: "piano," "plate."

"I jot down the things as they occur to me, that I must get in London,"
he explained. "Otherwise I should forget half."

"In London? I thought you were going in an opposite direction--to Castle
Marling?"

It was a slip of the tongue, but Mr. Carlyle repaired it.

"I may probably have to visit London as well as Castle Marling. How
bright the moon looks rising there, Barbara!"

"So bright--that or the sky--that I saw your secret," answered she.
"Piano! Plate! What can you want with either, Archibald?"

"They are for East Lynne," he quietly replied.

"Oh, for the Carews." And Barbara's interest in the item was gone.

They turned into the road just below the grove, and reached it. Mr.
Carlyle held the gate open for Barbara.

"You will come in and say good-night to mamma. She was saying to-day
what a stranger you have made of yourself lately."

"I have been busy; and I really have not the time to-night. You must
remember me to her instead." And cordially shaking her by the hand, he
closed the gate