ging you out into the paddock
the first thing in the morning."

Some of Miss Milroy's missing color began to appear again in her cheeks.
"Oh, Mr. Armadale, there is really no end to your kindness," she said;
"you don't know how you relieve me!" She paused; her spirits rallied with
as happy a readiness of recovery as if they had been the spirits of a
child; and her native brightness of temper sparkled again in her eyes,
as she looked up, shyly smiling in Allan's face. "Don't you think," she
asked, demurely, "that it is almost time now to let go of my hand?"

Their eyes met. Allan followed his instincts for the second time.
Instead of releasing her hand, he lifted it to his lips and kissed
it. All the missing tints of the rosier sort returned to Miss Milroy's
complexion on the instant. She snatched away her hand as if Allan had
burned it.

"I'm sure _that's_ wrong, Mr. Armadale," she said, and turned her head
aside quickly, for she was smiling in spite of herself.

"I meant it as an apology for--for holding your hand too long,"
stammered Allan. "An apology can't be wrong--can it?"

There are occasions, though not many, when the female mind accurately
appreciates an appeal to the force of pure reason. This was one of the
occasions. An abstract proposition had been presented to Miss Milroy,
and Miss Milroy was convinced. If it was meant as an apology, that,
she admitted, made all the difference. "I only hope," said the little
coquet, looking at him slyly, "you're not misleading me. Not that it
matters much now," she added, with a serious shake of her head. "If we
have committed any improprieties, Mr. Armadale, we are not likely to
have the opportunity of committing many more."

"You're not going away?" exclaimed Allan, in great alarm.

"Worse than that, Mr. Armadale. My new governess is coming."

"Coming?" repeated Allan. "Coming already?"

"As good as coming, I ought to have said--only I didn't know you wished
me to be so very particular. We got the answers to the advertisements
this morning. Papa and I opened them and read them together half an hour
ago; and we both picked out the same letter from all the rest. I picked
it out, because it was so prettily expressed; and papa picked it out
because the terms were so reasonable. He is going to send the letter up
to grandmamma in London by to-day's post, and, if she finds everything
satisfactory on inquiry, the governess is to be engaged You don't
know how dreadfully