l that too."

"No dear; you have quite enough. We must go back now."

"Oh, not yet, please?" The little fellow came tumbling down the bank,
followed by Charlie, who immediately caught his aunt's hand and
repeated, "Not yet, auntie!"

"These are Mrs. Ormonde's boys, I suppose?" said Errington.

"Yes; have you never seen them before?"

"Never. And have you not had enough climbing?" he added, good-humoredly,
to Charlie.

"No, not half enough!" cried Cis. "There's _such_ a bunch of violets
just under that biggest beech-tree, nearly up at the top! Do let me
gather them--just those; do--do--do!"

"Very well; do not go too fast, or you will break your neck."

Both boys started off, leaving their basket at Katherine's feet.

"I remember now," said Errington, looking at her, "where I saw I saw you
before. Is was two--nearly three--years ago, at Hyde Park corner, when
that elder boy had a narrow escape from being run over."

"Were _you_ there?" she exclaimed, so evidently surprised that Errington
saw the impulse was genuine. "I recollect Mr. Payne and Colonel Ormonde;
but I did not see _you_."

"Then where _have_ you met me?" was at his lips, but he did not utter
the words.

"Well, Payne was of real service; I did nothing. The little fellow had a
close shave."

"He had indeed," said Katherine, thoughtfully, with downcast eyes; then,
suddenly raising them to his, she said, as if to herself, "And you were
there too! How strange it all is!"

"I see nothing so strange in it, Miss Liddell," smiling good-humoredly.
"Have you any superstition on the subject?"

"No; I am not superstitious; yet it was curious--I mean, to meet by
accident on that day just before--" She stopped. "And now I am connected
with Colonel Ormonde, living with Mr. Payne's sister and--and talking
here with--_you_."

"These coincidences occur perpetually when people move in the same set,"
returned Errington, feeling absurdly curious, and yet not knowing how to
get at the train of recollection or association which underlay her
words--words evidently unstudied and impulsive.

"I suppose so. And, you know--Mr. Payne," Katherine continued,
quickly--"how good he is! He lives completely for others."

"Yes, I believe him to be thoroughly, honestly good. How hard he toils,
and with what a pitiful result!"

"I wish he would go. Why does he stand there making conversation?"
thought Katherine, while she said aloud: "I don't see that. If every one
helped