dly, but only for an instant. The next, Harold
had corrected himself, and said, "_Miss Rothesay_" in a distinct, cold,
and formal tone. Very soon afterwards he went away.

Mrs. Gwynne persuaded Olive to spend the day at the Parsonage. They two
were alone together, for Harold did not return. But in the afternoon
their quietness was broken by the sudden appearance of Lyle Derwent.

"So soon back from Brighton! Who would have thought it!" said Mrs.
Gwynne, smiling.

Lyle put on his favourite sentimental air, and muttered something about
"not liking gaiety, and never being happy away from Farnwood."

"Miss Rothesay is scarcely of your opinion; at all events, she is going
to try the experiment by leaving us for a while."

"Miss Rothesay leaving us!"

"It is indeed true, Lyle. You see I have not been well of late, and my
kind friends here are over-anxious for me; and I want to see my aunt in
Scotland."

"It is to Scotland you are going?--all that long dreary way? You may
stay there weeks, months! and that while what will become of me--I mean
of us all at Farnwood?"

His evident regret touched Olive deeply. It was something to be missed,
even by this boy: he always seemed a boy to her, partly because of olden
times, partly because he was so boy-like and unsophisticated in mind and
manner.

"My dear Lyle, how good of you to think of me in this manner! But indeed
I will not forget you when I am away."

"You promise that?" cried Lyle, eagerly.

Olive promised; with a sorrowful thought that none asked this
pledge--none needed it--save the affectionate Lyle!

He was still inconsolable, poor youth! He looked so drearily pathetic,
and quoted such doleful poetry, that Mrs. Gwynne, who, in her
matter-of-fact plainness, had no patience with any of Lyle's "romantic
vagaries," as she called them, began to exert the dormant humour
by which she always quenched his little ebullitions. Olive at last
considerately came to the rescue, and proposed an evening stroll about
the garden, to which Lyle gladly assented.

There he still talked of her departure, but his affectations were now
broken by real feeling.

"I shall miss you bitterly," he said, in a low tone; "but if your health
needs change, and this journey is for your good, of course I would not
think of myself at all."

--The very expressions she had herself used to Harold! This coincidence
touched her, and she half reproached herself for feeling so coldly
to all her kin