with a window overlooking the road; it had evidently been used as a
dressing-room, for there was a gentleman's wardrobe in it, and a
writing-table and easy-chair.

"I must coax Verity into giving me this room," he said half to himself;
but Elizabeth heard him.

"Verity! is that Mrs. Keston?" she asked. "What a very original name! I
do not believe I ever heard it before."

"I daresay not, but it just suits her. Yea--Verily, as her husband
calls her." Then Elizabeth looked extremely amused.

"What a droll idea! Your friends seem rather out of the common, Mr.
Herrick. I am quite impatient to make their acquaintance. We have a
large circle of friends--an inner and an outer circle--but I am always
glad to add to the number."

"I think you will like Verity," he returned seriously; "she is such a
genuine little soul, and so fresh and original. Oh, I am quite sure you
will take to her." Malcolm spoke in such a decided manner, as though it
were a foregone conclusion that Verity would be admitted to the
privileged inner circle, that Elizabeth's curiosity was strongly
excited.

"You seem rather certain of the fact," she said perversely; "but, as my
sister would tell you, I am not so easily pleased after all."

"Nevertheless you will like Verity," he returned quickly. "Like
attracts like--a transparent, truthful nature, which is absolutely
without guile, will not fail to appeal to you; I already know you well
enough to predict that with certainty."

Elizabeth turned this speech off with a laugh, but her colour rose at
the implied compliment; if like attracts like, as Mr. Herrick said, he
must think her original and guileless too. Something in Malcolm's
tone--in the expression of his dark eyes--confirmed this impression,
and in spite of her stateliness and thirty years the second Miss
Templeton felt a little shy.

"We have not seen the garden-room yet," she said hastily, and then she
led the way downstairs.

The garden lay on the side of the house, and was well kept and full of
flowers; but the temporary building erected by Mr. Logan rather spoiled
the view from the back of the house, though a gay flower-border
surrounded it.

Elizabeth, who had procured the key from the servant, now opened the
door.

It was rather a bare-looking place, as Verity had said; more of a
workshop than a studio, though it was used for both purposes, and, as
both of them knew, good work had been done there; but Mr. Logan, who
had a fine st