nervous I am getting about it already; a strange
governess is such an awful prospect. But it is not quite so bad as going
to school; and I have great hopes of this new lady, because she writes
such a nice letter! As I said to papa, it almost reconciles me to her
horrid, unromantic name."

"What is her name?" asked Allan. "Brown? Grubb? Scraggs? Anything of
that sort?"

"Hush! hush! Nothing quite so horrible as that. Her name is Gwilt.
Dreadfully unpoetical, isn't it? Her reference must be a respectable
person, though; for she lives in the same part of London as grandmamma.
Stop, Mr. Armadale! we are going the wrong way. No; I can't wait to look
at those lovely flowers of yours this morning, and, many thanks, I can't
accept your arm. I have stayed here too long already. Papa is waiting
for his breakfast; and I must run back every step of the way. Thank you
for making those kind allowances for mamma; thank you again and again,
and good-by!"

"Won't you shake hands?" asked Allan.

She gave him her hand. "No more apologies, if you please, Mr. Armadale,"
she said, saucily. Once more their eyes met, and once more the plump,
dimpled little hand found its way to Allan's lips. "It isn't an apology
this time!" cried Allan, precipitately defending himself. "It's--it's a
mark of respect."

She started back a few steps, and burst out laughing. "You won't find me
in our grounds again, Mr. Armadale," she said, merrily, "till I have got
Miss Gwilt to take care of me!" With that farewell, she gathered up her
skirts, and ran back across the paddock at the top of her speed.

Allan stood watching her in speechless admiration till she was out
of sight. His second interview with Miss Milroy had produced an
extraordinary effect on him. For the first time since he had become the
master of Thorpe Ambrose, he was absorbed in serious consideration of
what he owed to his new position in life. "The question is," pondered
Allan, "whether I hadn't better set myself right with my neighbors by
becoming a married man? I'll take the day to consider; and if I keep in
the same mind about it, I'll consult Midwinter to-morrow morning."

When the morning came, and when Allan descended to the breakfast-room,
resolute to consult his friend on the obligations that he owed to his
neighbors in general, and to Miss Milroy in particular, no Midwinter was
to be seen. On making inquiry, it appeared that he had been observed in
the hall; that he had taken fr