her touched and
impressed, not judging. On what north country folk call the loosing of
the kirk, she, moving outwards after the throng, found herself close
behind a gauzy white cloak over a lilac silk, that filled the whole
breadth of the central aisle, and by the dark curl descending beneath
the tiny white bonnet, as well as by the turn of the graceful head, she
knew her sister-in-law, Lady Keith, of Gowanbrae. In the porch she was
met with outstretched hands and eager greetings--

"At last! Where did you hide yourself? I had begun to imagine dire
mischances."

"Only in the corner by the chancel."

"Alick's old nook! Keeping up honeymoon privileges! I have kept your
secret faithfully. No one knows you are not on the top of Snowdon, or
you would have had all the world to call on you."

"There are always the Earlsworthy woods," said Alick.

"Or better still, come to Timber End. No one penetrates to my morning
room," laughed Bessie.

"Now, Uncle George," she said, as the rector appeared, "you have had
a full allowance of them for three days, you must spare them to me
to-morrow morning."

"So it is you, my lady," he answered, with a pleased smile; "I heard a
sort of hail-storm of dignity sailing in! How is Lord Keith?"

"Very stiff. I want him to have advice, but he hates doctors. What is
the last Avonmouth news? Is Ermine in good heart, and the boys well
again?"

She was the same Bessie as ever--full of exulting animation, joined to
a caressing manner that her uncle evidently delighted in; and to Rachel
she was most kind and sisterly, welcoming her so as amply to please and
gratify Alick. An arrangement was made that Rachel should be sent for
early to spend the day at Timber End, and that Mr. Clare and Alick
should walk over later. Then the two pretty ponies came with her little
low carriage to the yew-tree gate, were felt and admired by Mr. Clare,
and approved by Alick, and she drove off gaily, leaving all pleased and
amused, but still there was a sense that the perfect serenity had been
ruffled.

"Rachel," said Alick, as they wandered in the twilight garden, "I wonder
if you would be greatly disappointed if our travels ended here."

"I am only too glad of the quiet."

"Because Lifford is in great need of thorough rest. He has not been away
for more than a year, and now he is getting quite knocked up. All he
does care to do, is to take lodgings near his wife's asylum, poor man,
and see her occasionally: s