roprieties; and Rose walked on a
step or two in front of the pair, her eyes twinkling a little. At the
vicarage gate she was let off without the customary final gossip. Mrs.
Thornburgh was so much occupied in the fate hanging over Mary Jenkinson
that she, for once, forgot to catechise Rose as to any marriageable
young men she might have come across in a recent visit to a great
country-house of the neighbourhood; an operation which formed the
invariable pendant to any of Rose's absences.

So, with a smiling nod to them both, the girl turned homewards. As she
did so she became aware of a man's figure walking along the space of
road between Greybarns and Burwood, the western light behind it.

Dr. Baker? But even granting that Mrs. Jenkinson had brought him five
miles on a false alarm, in the provoking manner of matrons, the shortest
professional visit could not be over in this time.

She looked again, shading her eyes. She was nearing the gate of Burwood,
and involuntarily slackened step. The man who was approaching, catching
sight of the slim girlish figure in the broad hat and pink and white
cotton dress, hurried up. The colour rushed to Rose's cheek. In another
minute she and Hugh Flaxman were face to face.

She could not hide her astonishment.

'Why are you not in Scotland?' she said after she had given him her
hand. 'Lady Helen told me last week she expected you in Ross-shire.'

Directly the words left her mouth she felt she had given him an opening.
And why had Nature plagued her with this trick of blushing?

'Because I am here!' he said smiling, his keen dancing eyes looking down
upon her. He was bronzed as she had never seen him. And never had he
seemed to bring with him such an atmosphere of cool pleasant strength.
'I have slain so much since the first of July that I can slay no more. I
am not like other men. The Nimrod in me is easily gorged, and goes to
sleep after a while. So this is Burwood?

He had caught her just on the little sweep leading to the gate, and now
his eye swept quickly over the modest old house, with its trim garden,
its overgrown porch and open casement windows. She dared not ask him
again why he was there. In the properest manner she invited him 'to come
in and see mamma.'

'I hope Mrs. Leyburn is better than she was in town? I shall be
delighted to see her. But must you go in so soon? I left my carriage
half a mile below, and have been revelling in the sun and air. I am loth
to go