er sitting-room, on the hearth
of which a bright wood-fire was burning. The old squire had been
examining their fish, and listened with almost boyish interest to his
son's description of their sport. In the effort he made to entertain
the old gentleman Mr Maxwell looked still more like other people, and
Clifton's coat, which he wore, helped to the same effect.

"I stumbled over him lying on his face in Finlay's grove," said Clifton
to his sister. "He would have run away, if I had not been too much for
him. We borrowed Joe Finlay's rod, and he went fishing with me. It is
a great deal better for him than being stunned by women's talk at Mrs
Jacob's."

"Yes, the sewing-circle!" said Elizabeth, "What will Mrs Jacob say?
Did he forget it? Of course he was expected home."

"He said nothing about it, nor did I. Jacob asked me to go over in the
evening. Why are you not there?"

"I have been there all the afternoon. I came home to make father's tea.
I told Mrs Jacob I would go back. I am afraid Mr Maxwell's coming
here to-night will offend her."

"Of course, but what if it does?"

"And do you like him? Does he improve on acquaintance?"

"He turns out to be flesh and blood, not a skin stuffed with logic, and
the odds and ends of other people's theological opinions. He is a
dyspeptic being, homesick and desponding, but he is a man. And look
here, Lizzie; if you really want to do a good work, you must take him in
hand, and not let Mrs Jacob, and the deacons, and all the rest of them
sit on him."

"How am I to help it, if such be their pleasure?"

"I have helped it to-night. Don't say a word about the sewing-circle,
lest his conscience should take alarm. I hope I shall see Mrs Jacob's
face when she hears that he has spent the evening here."

"I don't care for Mrs Jacob, but I am afraid the people may be
disappointed." For in Gershom the ladies met week by week in each
other's houses to sew for the benefit of some good cause, and their
husbands and brothers came to tea in the evening, and there was to be a
more than usually large gathering on this occasion, Elizabeth knew.
"However, I am not responsible," thought she.

So she said nothing, and her father in a little while said rather
querulously, that he hoped she was not going out again.

"Not if you want me, father. It will not matter much, I suppose."

"You will not be missed," said her brother.

Mr Maxwell did not seem to think it was a matter wi