rom the body of the
vehicle, while Oliver assisted the ladies to alight; "there's another
machineful coming, but we have lots of grub for all, and will only be
too glad of your company, Mr--Mr--what did you say?"

"Clearemout," interposed that gentleman, with a bow and a bland smile
that quite took Mr Donnithorne by storm.

"Ah, yes, glad to have you, Mr Clearemout; why, our necks might all
have been broken but for you. Rose, my dear, do look after this basket.
There--thanks--how hot it is, to be sure! Mr Clearemout--Mr
Grenfell; no introduction--only to let you know his name--my wife--
niece, Rose--Oliver Trembath, and all the rest; there, dispense with
ceremony on a picnic always. That's the chief fun of it."

While the lively old gentleman ran on thus, and collected the baskets
together, Mr Grenfell, who was a tall, gentlemanly man of about sixty,
with a grave, aristocratic countenance and polite manner, assured Mr
Clearemout that he was happy to make the acquaintance of a man who had
rendered them such opportune service, whereupon Mr Clearemout declared
himself to be fortunate in being present at such a juncture, and
protested that his service was a trifle in itself, although it had led
to an introduction which was most gratifying. Then, turning with much
urbanity of manner to the ladies, he entered into conversation with
them.

"Here they come!" shouted old Mr Donnithorne, as another carriage drove
up.

"The rest of our party," said Mr Grenfell, turning to Mr Clearemout;
"friends from St. Just."

The carriage stopped as he spoke, and a number of ladies and gentlemen
descended therefrom, and mingled their congratulations at the narrow
escape which had just been made, with thanks to the dark stranger, and
with orders, questions, counter-orders, and explanations innumerable,
about baskets to be carried and places to be selected.

The picnic, we need scarcely say, very much resembled picnics in
general. All were in good spirits--elated with the splendour of the
day, the beauty of the views, and the freshness of the sea-breeze that
sprang up soon after their arrival. The only one whose feelings were
not absolutely unruffled was Oliver Trembath. That youth was afflicted
with an unaccountable dislike to the dark stranger which rendered him
somewhat uncomfortable. As for the stranger, he made himself extremely
agreeable--told anecdotes, sang songs, and became an immaculate waiter
on the whole company, hand