d Samuel appeared silently at the carriage door, and assisted
his mother to get out ("Did you enjoy the drive, Sammy?" asked the old
lady. "Beautiful scenery, my dear, wasn't it?") Young Pedgift, on whom
the arrangements for exploring the Broads devolved, hustled about,
giving his orders to the boatman. Major Milroy, placid and patient, sat
apart on an overturned punt, and privately looked at his watch. Was it
past noon already? More than an hour past. For the first time, for many
a long year, the famous clock at home had struck in an empty workshop.
Time had lifted his wonderful scythe, and the corporal and his men had
relieved guard, with no master's eye to watch their performances, with
no master's hand to encourage them to do their best. The major sighed
as he put his watch back in his pocket. "I'm afraid I'm too old for this
sort of thing," thought the good man, looking about him dreamily. "I
don't find I enjoy it as much as I thought I should. When are we going
on the water, I wonder? Where's Neelie?"

Neelie--more properly Miss Milroy--was behind one of the carriages
with the promoter of the picnic. They were immersed in the interesting
subject of their own Christian names, and Allan was as near a pointblank
proposal of marriage as it is well possible for a thoughtless young
gentleman of two-and-twenty to be.

"Tell me the truth," said Miss Milroy, with her eyes modestly riveted on
the ground. "When you first knew what my name was, you didn't like it,
did you?"

"I like everything that belongs to you," rejoined Allan, vigorously. "I
think Eleanor is a beautiful name; and yet, I don't know why, I think
the major made an improvement when he changed it to Neelie."

"I can tell you why, Mr. Armadale," said the major's daughter, with
great gravity. "There are some unfortunate people in this world whose
names are--how can I express it?--whose names are misfits. Mine is a
misfit. I don't blame my parents, for of course it was impossible to
know when I was a baby how I should grow up. But as things are, I and
my name don't fit each other. When you hear a young lady called Eleanor,
you think of a tall, beautiful, interesting creature directly--the
very opposite of _me_! With my personal appearance, Eleanor sounds
ridiculous; and Neelie, as you yourself remarked, is just the thing. No!
no! don't say any more; I'm tired of the subject. I've got another
name in my head, if we must speak of names, which is much better wort